Don't Ask Me
by Flamedancer33
Summary: Shay doesn't remember who he is, where he comes from, how old he is, or even. . . how he died. Seto Kaiba, however, is determined to find out, since it's his mansion Shay's haunting! Rated for language.
1. Shay

Flame: My influence in this story is very noticeable, hee hee hee.  
  
Dancer: Your psycho is showing. Cut it out.  
  
Flame: New YGO story! I read a book about a ghost and just had to write this. Ain't I a pill?  
  
Dancer: If you review, we update other stories as well. Ok?  
  
Flame: And while you're at it, go read AngelStarfire's stuff. She's a yaoi writer, so beware! She's not nice if you're mean. . .  
  
Dancer: This is set from Shay's POV. He's a bit of a street kid, so he's got a problem with cussing. That's all. Gets bloody later on, maybe, though.  
Disclaimer:  
  
Flame: This sucks. This is really depressing. Why do I have to do this?  
  
Dancer: Because they might sue you for Bobgod.  
  
Flame: No! My Bobgod! ::hugs her computer, "Bobgod".::  
  
I do not own YGO. I don't own much of anything. Except Shay. He's only the main character, though, so I suppose we can't forget him.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
People say there's a light at the end of the tunnel. People say death is painless. People say there's an afterlife. People say death sets you free.  
  
Don't I wish they were right.  
  
Oh, there's an afterlife, all right. The luckless and, if you'll pardon the language, the stupid bastards sometimes manage to become ghosts. I don't know which I was. I prefer not to judge myself.  
  
I don't think I'd like the answer too much.  
  
I hate stereotypes. It's annoying when people look at me and say "ghost", then automatically assume I'm a 'disgruntled soul who cannot find peace.' That's assuming they're not running away and screaming. Kinda like I'm a monster. Nah, I'm just some dead guy.  
  
I mean, come on, how hard is that to accept?  
  
Besides, in my haunting grounds, Seto Kaiba was the real monster. And that kid Yugi's yami. Yami's and ghosts don't mix, especially not the all- powerful Pharaoh and the street-kid-slash-punk wannabe.  
  
I'm getting ahead of myself here. Let me take you back in time and try not to sound too cliché-ish. Back to when I was first reborn as a ghost. Back to when I still remembered nothing. Back to when I was stuck in the one place that is about as far from heaven as you could possibly get.  
  
Back to when I haunted the Kaiba mansion. ~*~*~*~*~  
  
Flame: Ah, yes, Shay has my delicate way with words.  
  
Dancer: That's for sure. Review or I'll sic Flame on you! 


	2. Confused Yet?

Dancer: Not much to say here. Just r&r, please!  
  
Disclaimer:  
  
Flame: ::still hugging Bobgod:: No! You keep YGO! Bobgod is mine! I don't own YGO, I only own Shay! So stay away!  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
I opened my eyes slowly, careful of the blinding light that streamed through the window. A chilly breeze blew past, ruffling my hair and sending shivers up my spine. I'd obviously left my window open and thrown the covers aside in my sleep. I reached out and grabbed for a blanket.  
  
Wait a minute. Breeze? Clouds? Endless sea of white around me?  
  
I sat bolt upright, awake and scared now. I didn't stay that way for long.  
  
No, after about three seconds of being aware that I was floating, I was no longer floating. I was falling.  
  
As any normal person would do in this situation, I screamed. And prayed. And flapped my arms in a pathetic attempt to fly. And kept falling.  
  
I had assumed that this was one of those legendary falling-from-the-sky- wake-up-right-before-you-land dreams. Another normal person reaction.  
  
It was about then that I realized something. The normal person is an idiot.  
  
I wasn't paying attention to where I was going in particular. I was too consumed with the fact that I was going down very rapidly. So, I didn't notice the mansion until I was one with the roof. Then the floor of the top story. Then the ceiling of the next floor down.  
  
Floor. Ceiling. Floor. Ceiling. Floor. Ceiling. Floor. Jeez, how many stories does this palace-wannabe have?  
  
I thought briefly about what would happen if I stopped going through the floor and- WHAM!  
  
Right on cue, I stopped falling as the ground suddenly became solid and met me nose-first.  
  
"Ow. . . ie. . ." I moaned. Knee-jerk reaction, even I admit. There was no pain. Not even a twinge. Oh, I was fully aware of the fact that my face had become a near-permanent part of the floor. But it didn't hurt.  
  
Yippee. Like the lack of pain made any difference.  
  
"I thought I was s'posed to wake up 'fore I hit, not after," I muttered as I pushed myself off the ground. No doubt I'd fallen from bed and woken up a heartbeat before I hit.  
  
Except that this high-tech paradise was not my room. My dream room, maybe, but not the one in reality.  
  
And then, it was gone and I was falling again.  
  
I thought about hitting the ground again and voila, guess what happened. The landing was much gentler, since I hadn't had the time to build up a real head of steam.  
  
I stood up and looked around. A bedroom of sorts, but unlike my last stop, it was bare of everything except a bed and a closet. Not even a dresser. Whoever owned this mansion-castle hybrid didn't get many guests. Or perhaps there were too many rooms, and he just shoved a bed into each empty room.  
  
Bored already, I opened the door. Or tried to. Several times. Each time, the knob passed through my hand.  
  
I was beginning to get awfully suspicious, but I refused to consider it until I knew more about what was going on. I was also beginning to freak a little. This wasn't looking to good for the dashing hero.  
  
Me. The hero's me. The dashing- aw, forget it.  
  
I concentrated on being able to touch the doorknob. It had worked with hitting the ground, so why not? To my surprise, it took very little mental effort to grab and turn the knob, or push the door open. Finally, something going my way.  
  
I looked out into a hallway that was just as immaculately clean as the room I'd landed in. On. Whatever.  
  
I stepped out and closed the door behind me, then turned and wandered down the hallway. At first, I was looking for a way out. Soon, I was looking for a living person. After about two hours, I was desperately running from room to room, trying to find one that looked lived-in and confirmed that I wasn't in some mental hospital.  
  
I let my focus slip and found that I could float from one place to another. It was handy for going through walls, ceilings, floors, or doors, but it was too unnerving not to walk.  
  
After floating and running about three miles, I stopped. Opened the door next to me. Found an empty bedroom.  
  
I'd been going in circles for two hours. Considering my float ability, it was pretty amazing how stupid and unobservant I was.  
  
A window would do, I decided. A window through which I could float and go outside and find the elusive front door. Hopefully the living room was right beyond the front door. Hopefully someone was in there. Hopefully I didn't decide to go solid for good five stories above the ground.  
  
And so, the great Window Hunt began. 


	3. Walking Through and On

Dancer: Guess what. We have Thursday off of school, but Friday we have school again! And Friday is Senior Skip Day, but I'm only a sophomore! It's rainy and chilly and miserable outside, my kitten is following in my dog's paw prints and ripping open the screens on the windows, and my computer's freezing up all the time! Although Flame may be to blame for the last one. . .  
  
Flame: No! My computer! MY COMPUTER!  
  
Dancer: I probably shouldn't have told her that they were going to take it away, but oh well. Anyway, enough about me, now you can go read Shay's whining! Please R&R!  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own YGO, do own Shay.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
'Hunt', sadly, is the appropriate word one must use when it comes to finding anything in this labyrinth. Unless you want to find yourself lost. Or turned around, as I put it, because there was no way in hell I would let this psycho fun-house get on my nerves.  
  
Yeah. Right.  
  
Did I mention how, whenever you're not looking for something, it seems to be everywhere, but when you start looking for it, you can't find it anywhere? And did I mention I make no sense when I'm getting pissed?  
  
I feel sorry for the guys who built this place. The construction workers probably got lost and died of starvation.  
  
I was still looking for anything that might give me a clue as to how to get out of this place when I ran into- excuse me, through- the first living person I'd seen since my high dive from the sky.  
  
Neither of us were expecting it- we met around the corner. He walked on and never once noticed me. Me, I was having a panic attack.  
  
Somebody had just walked through me. Not around me, not ran into me. He walked THROUGH me. And, as if I didn't exist, he kept right on walking. I s'pose, to him, I didn't exist. I had a pretty thorough idea of this now.  
  
"This can't be real, this can't be real, this CANNOT BE REAL," I moaned. Stopped. Held up a hand. Looked through it. I'm trans-whatsit. Translucent or something like that. Whatever the hell it is, I'm it!  
  
I don't remember moving, but I suddenly find myself following the guy who walked through me. He's alive, I think. He doesn't look like it; he's way too scary. He's focused on some point ahead of him, as if afraid somebody's gonna jump out of the shadows. He doesn't look like he's ever smiled.  
  
Wait. Somebody as rich as him, for all I know, someone could jump out of the shadows, gun and all. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't take a bullet for him.  
  
Paranoid now, and watching the shadows like my unknowing guide, I followed him down a set of stairs. He's taller than me, when I'm not floating. I am now- there's no other way I could keep up with him. Brown hair, deep blue eyes. He's the psycho clown who comes with the psycho fun-house. Personality not included.  
  
Down more stairs. I know I fell through several stories during my attempted reunion with the ground. Sheez, doesn't this guy believe in elevators? Or maps?  
  
I follow him down one last set of stairs and waddya know, I'm in the living room. I think. It could just be a way oversized closet. I mean, in this house, who really knows what anything is?  
  
There's a kid watching TV. Cute kid. Innocent looking. They're the worst. I hate those kinds of kids- they give you the puppy-dog eyes and you just have to give them what they want and there's not a damn thing you can do about it. You just don't mess with the cuteness.  
  
I float through my guide on accident, but he once again fails to notice. He stopped in the middle of the living room/big closet and was watching the TV. Judging it. Could the little one watch it, or was the big, mean, threatening game show going to rot his mind into moth balls and turn him into a drooling couch potato?  
  
I left the two to decide this life-or-death-or-mental-illness dilemma on their own. They're big boys. They can handle it.  
  
I'm not. I can't. I was still upset about the whole walk-through-Shay-and- not-even-notice thing. Maybe he's just a bastard. He looks like it. Or maybe I'm just judging the book by its cover. He did seem concerned about what was on TV, at least momentarily. The two don't really look alike, but I was willing to bet my float that they were brothers.  
  
Except I didn't value my float. I didn't want my float. I didn't want my transpara-crap, I didn't want my invisibility, I didn't want my go-through- walls-and-people, I didn't want to have to focus to touch something, I didn't want my fall-from-the-sky, I didn't want to be here.  
  
All those add up to one undeniable conclusion:  
  
I'm dead. I'm deader than dead.  
  
I'm a ghost.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Dancer: Poor Shay, just now realizing what's going on. . . Yes, I know, I kinda did a little bit of Kaiba-bashing, both brothers, but it gets better. Just wait until Shay meets Yami. . . 


	4. Rule Number One: Remember the Slingshot

Dancer: Nothing much to say today. My life sucks. The end of the year is coming, and sophomores get nailed in the face by exams. And the seniors only have two weeks of school left! They'll be at the beach or the pool or cruising around in their cars, free, while we sit in school and take tests we don't want to be bothered by!  
  
Flame: Yeah, but they also have to go to college next year.  
  
Dancer: Don't try to comfort me, you're supposed to agree thoughtlessly!  
  
Flame: And they call ME the evil half?  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own YGO, do own Shay  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
I found a kitchen.  
  
Note the use of "a". Not "the", like with normal houses and normal people, but A kitchen. Probably not the main one, either. Who knows? Besides, I'd already decided that normal people have a below-average I.Q. The brainiacs, like the older brother in the living room, boost our average from 70 to 120. That's still an insult to them.  
  
Anyway, back to the kitchen.  
  
I floated through the wall of the living room during my "Omgoimagos!!!!" panic attack (A/N: Translated from Shay-ese: "Oh my God I'm a ghost") and came to the abrupt realization that I was sitting in- in, not on- a dishwasher.  
  
The guy has a dishwasher. After noticing the lack of elevators, I was honestly beginning to think that he didn't believe in technology if it didn't have a keyboard or a remote control.  
  
At least it wasn't running.  
  
I heard someone moving in the room beyond- either a dining room or another humongous closet- and decided to check out what was below the kitchen.  
  
I started to float down, then stopped. My gaze had been pulled to a window. Finally, a way out. I was starting to think I couldn't leave.  
  
I'd be the smartest guy in the world if I'd ever learn to just follow my gut instinct.  
  
The glass presented a bit of a difficulty. See, in case you didn't know, glass is actually a liquid. The slowest, thickest liquid ever created, but still a liquid. Ask a scientist. Or ask Kaiba. Whichever floats yer boat. On second thought, don't ask Kaiba. I did. He laughed at me.  
  
Back to the window. . . Well, I have a problem with liquids of any sort. My trans-whatsit body is good for one thing only- I absorb liquid. Like a sponge. So, going through a wall of solid-impersonating liquid for me is like a living person trying to go through a wall, period. It don't work.  
  
I got pushed back, away from the glass, four times before I figured I could just float through the wall right next to it.  
  
Catch number One: It is not easy to go through said wall. It's got insulator, which has fiberglass and, yep, you guessed it. Fiberglass is liquid. The wall also has water pipes in it. Me being stupid, dumb, ignorant me, I didn't know about my problem with liquid until AFTER this entire adventure with the outdoors ended.  
  
Catch number Two: It was cold out there. Really, really cold. I'll say later why that's a problem. Actually, Yami will, but, to quote Mokuba, we don't mention Yami in Shay's presence.  
  
Catch number Three: It was raining out there. As if I didn't have enough problems with the glass, which I would hardly call a liquid no matter what Kaiba says, I also had to deal with rain. Fun.  
  
Catch number Four: It was all over just a plainly stupid idea.  
  
After playing a few rousing games of "Dodge-pipes" and "Cuss Out Kaiba" (I did not yet know his name, so he was just 'the psycho guy' to me), I got outside. And I got soaked, as is natural for anyone who goes out into the rain. And I froze over. And I sank.  
  
I felt as stiff as a log. I also felt like a moron, making swimming motions as I tried in vain to get back into the mansion. Combined, the two made me look like I was a frog in molasses.  
  
For the third time that day, I felt panic take over. Would I just sink until was at the center of the earth?  
  
I stopped frog-swimming. Actually, that sounded like fun.  
  
Unfortunately, it was not to be.  
  
Have you ever made a slingshot with a rubber band, two pencils, and a small, round, and heavy object? Okay. Replace the rubber band with some weird magic force field. Replace the pencils with two trees I sank past. Replace the small object with me.  
  
Get the picture?  
  
For the third time in as many hours, I took a flying lesson.  
  
To my relief, my path of flight took me right back into the mansion. Through the kitchen. Through the dining room. Through a spare bedroom. I thought about becoming solid and. . .  
  
If I had been alive, I wouldn't have stayed that way much longer after that. As it was, the mansion shook.  
  
Or, judging by the lack of reaction from the people in the place, maybe it was just my imagination.  
  
I peeled myself off of the wall and dropped to the ground. The cold had left me stiff and practically unmovable. The rain had left me feeling like a piece of soggy bread.  
  
After a few hours, when I could move again, I instinctively sought out a source of heat and found myself by the oven. Still feeling like a moron for many things I'd done today, I decided to simply pretend the last six hours had not happened.  
  
Right. Back to freaking out about being a ghost.  
  
Well, ok. Only certain incidents didn't happen.  
  
Ghost Rule Number One: No leaving the house. 


	5. Computer Problems

Dancer: I'm sorry about the ranting in the last two chapters. Seniors just get on my nerves, is all.  
  
Flame: Lazy, no-good bums. . . no offense meant if you are a senior, of course.  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own YGO, do own Shay. And the Slingshot Effect.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
I didn't try to leave the house again.  
  
I'm sorry, but when you find yourself suddenly flung back into the mansion that you just floated from, it's kind of hard to forget. Especially if you're alive, but I wouldn't know anything about that.  
  
I call it the Slingshot Effect.  
  
I sat by the oven for a few more hours, feeling like I was growing mold as I did. Two maids came and went, bustling around the general area of the kitchen, dining room, and laundry room. Each only one of many. This mansion was fit for royalty.  
  
Or a Minotaur. Personally, I was under the impression that you could hide several in the first floor alone.  
  
Just by sitting and listening, I picked up several interesting facts. The psycho is Seto Kaiba. He's the CEO of Kaiba Corp. Surprise, surprise. The stupid company is only named after him. Never would have guessed that he'd had anything to do with it at all. Never mind the fact that only the CEO of Kaiba Corp. could possibly afford this maze of a mansion.  
  
Second, the kid is Mokuba. He's an average ten-year-old, if not a little on the bright side. Y'know, so bright you have to look at him sideways or he'll blind you. I got the impression that he was only about four times smarter than me.  
  
Compared to the older Kaiba, that was nothing.  
  
I didn't pick up the maids' names, but I did hear older brother Seto saying he had to go down to the mothership for a few minutes. That wasn't his precise wording but hey, I don't really pay attention to what he says. I've had less insulting conversations with a wall.  
  
As soon as he was gone, I decided to give little brother Mokuba a test.  
  
Yeah, Shay. Great. Try to give the kid a heart attack. At least Seto Kaiba can't kill me if I'm already dead. He apparently can't even see me.  
  
I floated through the wall and found a little slice of heaven sitting, open and awaiting my slightest whim, on the coffee table. With neither Mokuba nor the maids in sight, I grabbed it and floated up through the ceiling.  
  
THUNK.  
  
Oops. Shit.  
  
I dropped back through the ceiling again and cruised off in a different direction that didn't require passing through anything solid.  
  
It took me only a few minutes to find a room that wasn't occupied. Just pick a door and open it. I closed the door but couldn't lock it. Instead, I just floated to the bed and gently placed my prize near the middle.  
  
Floating in the bed, concentrating on my fingers only, I played a few games of poker on my new best friend Seto Kaiba's laptop.  
  
I have no sense of time, so I was surprised to find that it was only five in the afternoon. Given its reputation, I assumed I came into being as a ghost at midnight. No, wait. The sun had been up when I'd woken up in the sky. So, about seven in the morning.  
  
Geez. So much for reputation.  
  
Alright, woke up at seven, fell for a minute or two, learned how to control my float, as I was now referring to any less-that-solid abilities, in half an hour, looked for someone alive for two hours. Took a dip outside, Slingshot Effect, badda-boom, I spend about four hours on the ground.  
  
At that time, it was one in the afternoon. Two hours to dry off- why the hell would the oven be going at noon? Dinner's not for at least five more hours- grab the laptop, find out that solid objects don't do the float with me, and find this room.  
  
I'd spent the past two hours playing poker.  
  
Wait. Seven in the morning? No wonder I didn't find anybody. A normal person would be asleep.  
  
Except the normal person is an idiot, and Seto and Mokuba Kaiba are not idiots. I'm the idiot in this house. I'm the one who tried to carry a solid laptop through an equally solid ceiling.  
  
Great. This mansion is big enough to hold an entire city, and I'm the only one dumb enough to qualify for village idiot.  
  
I wasn't paying much attention to what was going on around me. After getting tired of poker, I tried for Solitaire. It made me feel lonely, however, so I moved on to see what other games there was.  
  
I didn't know anyone was there until he spoke, and consequentially scared the crap out of me.  
  
"Who are you and what are you doing here?"  
  
I jumped about three feet, then crashed back onto the bed. A second attempt was much more successful.  
  
Mokuba stared at me. Bright and brave. And no longer naïve, in my eyes. Cute? Definitely. There's no way on God's green earth anyone under five feet tall cannot be cute.  
  
For such a little squirt, he was awfully bossy. He glared at me, an obvious challenge. I sent a silent prayer to the god of ghosts that he hadn't seen me floating. Then I realized that he was about two seconds away from hitting me with the pillow he'd grabbed from lord knows where.  
  
Now, a pillow might not be threatening to a normal person. Still, my faith in normal people has been going downhill quite drastically in these past hours. If he hit me with that pillow, as was his obvious intent, he'd learn about my. . . ability.  
  
Anything ghost-ish I was now knew as my 'float', simply because it was easy. He threw that pillow at me, he'd probably be very interested in why it went through me. I couldn't let him find out about my float the hard way. Time to butter him up.  
  
How, precisely, does one 'butter up' a ten-year-old rich kid?  
  
Simple. One doesn't. One waits for him to throw the pillow.  
  
I may not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but it's not for lack of wanting. I gave it my best shot.  
  
"Ok, kid, just hold back on the Pillow of Certain Doom and I can explain everything." I hope.  
  
Mokuba looked at his weapon and actually grinned. At first, I believed he had got some high-tech gun in there, and he was laughing at my blindness. However, he looked back at me, and we both knew he would be in a lot of trouble if I were here for any reason other than the Slingshot Effect.  
  
Mission completed. Now, how to tell him that I'm a ghost when I still haven't accepted it myself. 


	6. Rule Number Two: SpiritMemoryLoss Disea...

Dancer: Ooo, poor Mokuba's gonna have to deal with Shay alone for the next couple of chapters. . .  
  
Flame: And yes, there's a reason why Mokuba can see Shay while Seto just walks right through him. Once again, it's me going to work.  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own YGO. Just Shay. Yup. Happy with him. Damn you lawyers.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Have you ever tried explaining something to someone under twelve? Here's a hint: there had better be a change in subject every few minutes or you might as well be talking to yourself.  
  
Mokuba, thank whatever almighty being that had taken pity on stupid Shay, was not an ordinary child.  
  
I say "ghost", I expect something along the lines of screaming and running, or at least a little bit of fear. What do I get?  
  
"Wow," Mokuba said, staring at me. "You're really dead?"  
  
Yeah. Uh-huh. Thanks for the support, kid. I spend my first half-day in a hell better known as mansion Kaiba, and all you can do is ask if I'm really dead.  
  
This kid is jaded. He's seen way too much magic and crap. Another thing Yami explains to me. One of the few things he explained that I actually cared to hear.  
  
By then, Mokuba was sitting on the bed and I was floating in whatever position struck me as comfortable at the moment. He was watching me with the biggest blue eyes I had ever seen.  
  
Damn puppy-dog eyes.  
  
"Yeah, I'm really dead," I finally managed to force out. I had no idea how lonely I was until I had someone to talk to. Mokuba could've gone to hell and back; I'd've followed him every step of the way, simply for the sake of his company.  
  
"How?" Good question. How'd I die? Who was I before I bit the dust? Where'd I come from, and all the other who what when where and why's.  
  
For the first time, I tried to scan my memory.  
  
And found it blank.  
  
It's like trying to remember when you were just a little kid. You know it happened, there is proof like pictures, and you may occasionally get a shredded memory, but you can't tell what happened. You simply can't remember.  
  
I am inflicted with what they call the spirit-memory-loss disease. Turns out all spirits, me and the Yami's, have holes in our memories. Rather large holes. Holes big enough to pass a freight train through.  
  
In less gentle terms, we remember diddly-shit.  
  
Welcome to panic attack number four.  
  
Several minutes later, after I had completely freaked out and scared Mokuba half to death, I found myself staring at the wall. No memory. No family.  
  
Who was I? How had I died?  
  
More importantly, who missed me? And who was I missing, somewhere, deep inside my heart where not even the strongest of magics could evict all my memories? This continual sense of hopelessness I'd been feeling. Was it because I had lost someone very dear to me?  
  
Mokuba watched me silently. He was sorry for me, I knew it. He'd been very helpful, pulling that spirit-memory-loss disease thing out of thin air, trying to calm me down, simply being an understanding person when I needed one around.  
  
Maybe living with psycho-clown-Seto-Kaiba won't be so bad after all. Despite first impressions, his little brother is really cool.  
  
Besides, I'm not exactly living.  
  
"It's okay, Shay," Did I ever tell him my name? I don't remember. "I know some people who understand all this."  
  
"You know other ghosts?" I must have sounded pretty disbelieving, because he got pissed again.  
  
"No, but I know other spirits," he announced. I got the vague feeling that I was supposed to be applauding about then. All hail King Mokuba, the Knower of Other Spirits!  
  
The mental image was way too funny. I burst out laughing.  
  
He didn't find that amusing.  
  
"Look, Yami isn't really going to like you that much if you insult him this way." Well, if that ain't the understatement of the year. Guess what kid, spirits are territorial, Yami's not gonna like me no matter what I do.  
  
"Who?" was my blank reply.  
  
Mokuba groaned.  
  
"You know what? Just follow me," he ordered. He then grabbed the laptop and headed out.  
  
Still smiling at the picture of a chibified Mokuba wearing a robe and a crown, I drifted after him.  
  
Ghost Rule Number Two: Memories + Ghostification = No memories. 


	7. Rule Number Three: Be Glad I Can't Kill

Flame: Okay, this is the fun chapter. . .  
  
Dancer: Ghostification is my own word, in case you were wondering. Means basically becoming a ghost. ::watches Flame warily::  
  
Flame: Yami, meet Shay. . .  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own YGO, do own Shay. And his messed-up ghost rules. That's all.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Mokuba dropped the phone back into place and spun around to face me.  
  
I was still suffering from the giggles. Every time I saw him, I couldn't help but remember the little mental picture of King Mokuba I'd created.  
  
I didn't say anything about it aloud. Mokuba would find some way to kill me. He doesn't like people laughing at him.  
  
"So, what did. . . Yugi? What'd he have to say?" I was guessing on the name. Mokuba had been trying to cram about five minutes' worth of conversation into thirty seconds. He'd said the name once, and then was gone.  
  
Hell, I was the one going through this, and I was confused by his 'explanation'!  
  
Mokuba gave me- or more rather, my refusing-to-leave, deeply-amused grin- a poisonous look before answering.  
  
"He said I wasn't making sense. He'll be here in about twenty minutes."  
  
All right, and one statement connects to the other how?  
  
Little kid logic. I can't follow it too well. Leave me alone to suffer in peace.  
  
I wondered vaguely if my death had been recorded. Maybe one of the Kaiba brothers could look up my name. . .  
  
In every newspaper around the world, with only 'Shay' as a search option? I know my name isn't exactly common, but there is no way I am the only Shay out there.  
  
If we knew how I'd died. . .  
  
I told Mokuba to hold on for a minute and floated through the floor. I had neither seen or felt any wounds, but I had noticed something that basically gave it away.  
  
My forearms were wrapped in bandages, especially my wrists.  
  
Once I was certain no one could see me, I unwrapped the bandages on my left arm. And stared.  
  
My wrist had been cut carelessly four or five times. Brutal, gaping slashes that still looked fresh, minus the blood. Deep slices followed the vein up my arm, stopping at my elbow.  
  
The other arm was the same. I rewrapped the bandages, thinking furiously all the while.  
  
There is no way in heaven or hell, no pun intended, that I could do that to myself. I would have bled to death too quickly. Someone had to have killed me. I was murdered. Or maybe it was a freak accident. Whatever the case was, I didn't kill myself.  
  
"You hear me, you asshole?" I yelled at the ceiling. "I DIDN'T KILL MYSELF!!!"  
  
Fear seized me in an icy wave and I dropped. If I could have cried, I probably would have.  
  
Had I been kidding myself all along? The reason I had so much anger, so much fear. . .  
  
Was I actually suicidal?  
  
"Shay! Get up here! Yugi's here!"  
  
Ha. I was right about the name.  
  
Making sure the bandages were hiding the wounds, I stood and floated up.  
  
I decided in about two seconds flat that this legendary Yami and I were not going to be good friends. In fact, we'd probably have to settle with not killing each other, simply because we couldn't.  
  
And so. . . let the evil glaring contest begin!  
  
For an all-powerful spirit, Yami's kinda short.  
  
He did not approve much of this observation.  
  
Mokuba ran through introductions, and I forced myself to follow him. That kid can talk very, very fast when he wants to. Still, seeing as to how it was only Yugi and Yami, I kept track easily enough. It was when he tried to explain the whole Millennium Puzzle thing that I got lost.  
  
Ok, to truly understand my feelings about Yami, try forgetting all about him. You don't know him, you haven't seen him before. He walks into YOUR house, and starts messing up YOUR living room, insults you, and walks all over YOUR stuff.  
  
Also, try forgetting that I don't own this house.  
  
Perhaps I was being a bit snappish.  
  
Ok. I know I was. But still, I wasn't sure if I'm suicidal. I don't know who killed me. Was it me, or was I murdered?  
  
Oh, and, by the way, Yami is just as territorial as I am.  
  
Trying not to dwell on the negative, I attempted to be a good ghost-host.  
  
Yeah. Bad pun. Haha, Shay, you're just hilarious.  
  
He looked at me for a few moments, then smiled.  
  
"Not a very old spirit," he observed. Of course, me being me, I couldn't keep my answer to myself.  
  
"Yeah, well, not everyone can be from ancient Egypt, your royal highness," I shot back.  
  
Two problems with that: One, nobody as of yet had told me that Yami was once a pharaoh. Two, he knew nobody had told me that.  
  
Actually, three problems. The third problem was entirely his reaction.  
  
"What did you call me?" He's got a look that makes me feel like sinking through the floor and not coming back until he was safely on the other side of the planet. Unfortunately, I don't take hints well.  
  
"It was sarcasm," I answered. My turn to insult him. See how YOU like it, Yami. "Sar-casm. S-A-R-C-A-S-M. Ya know, not really sayin' what I'm meanin'. I was insulting you, spiky."  
  
"Who told you I was Pharaoh?!"  
  
"Whoa! You were a pharaoh? When?"  
  
That was him, then me. Me, I found it amazing. I was actually getting to meet a pharaoh, a king from the greatest of all ancient cultures.  
  
He was not amused in the least. He gave me that 'I don't believe you' look. He's good at that expression.  
  
By now, I was more than willing to state my opinion, and I was in the process of telling him when Mokuba interrupted. He probably figured that he and Yugi didn't want to hear it. Actually, what I'd been about to suggest is physically impossible unless there is something really wrong with you.  
  
"All right, Yami, quit worrying. He didn't know you were a pharaoh, he just guessed. And Shay," this said with a death glare to me, "If my brother heard you cussing like this, well, you're very lucky you're already dead."  
  
"What's going on here?"  
  
Speak of the psycho-clown himself. I mean devil. Either one fits.  
  
We all turned, in classic slow motion, to face Seto Kaiba.  
  
And boy, I have never seen anyone with such a hateful look as the one Seto Kaiba was giving Yugi.  
  
His yami sucks, but I was honestly beginning to like the kid. We have a lot in common.  
  
Ghost Rule Number Three: Don't call Yami a pharaoh, even though he was one, and keep him out of MY house. 


	8. Two Rules and a Mad Yami

Dancer: The next chapter, in which Yami makes Shay feel even less intelligent and Seto Kaiba finally figures out who his newest house guest is! A rather permanent one, he is. . .  
  
Flame: Yeah. Also, tell me what you think of this whole first person POV thing. It's the first time I've done something besides an essay for English in this POV, and I'm not sure how well it works with me.  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own YGO. And if you make me say that line one more time, I'm going to hurt someone.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Between Seto Kaiba and Yami, I can't decide who's scarier. Yami's a 5,000- year-old spirit, and Kaiba's just Kaiba.  
  
Kaiba still couldn't see me, so he probably thought that Yugi was here for no special reason. I looked at Yami, utterly confused.  
  
"He's already walked through me once. Now it's like I'm not even here. Why doesn't he see me?" It hurts to ask, but I have to know.  
  
"He's not willing to believe in spirits," Yami answered. Before I could ask, he elaborated. "He refuses to let himself accept the possibility that spirits, such as you or I, exist. Only those who are willing to believe in your existence can see you."  
  
"But he can see you. He's givin' you a death look." I ignored the lack of sense his second sentence made. I knew I'd understand soon enough.  
  
"Yes, but that's because I have a physical form- Yugi. You do not." He's says it like it's something to be proud of. Me, I wouldn't enjoy being locked in a puzzle for five thousand years, no matter who discovered it.  
  
"Yeah, so now he thinks you're goin' insane, talkin' to me, but he can't see me, so he's thinkin' you're talkin' to yourself."  
  
Yami gave me a very odd look. "Try that again," he ordered.  
  
"He thinks you're talkin' to yourself."  
  
"So he does."  
  
"And how come, if he sees you a lot, he can't see me? I mean, how can he not believe in spirits if he has to deal with you?"  
  
"I believe it's lack of wanting to associate with me."  
  
"Ah." That made no sense either, but I was beginning to understand that common sense was something you had to say good-bye to before trying to keep up with all this.  
  
Deciding that the conversation was over, Kaiba finally spoke again.  
  
"Mokuba. What are they. Doing here." He had to pause to prevent himself from saying something inappropriate.  
  
"They're here to help Shay," Mokuba answered.  
  
"Shay whom Seto cannot see," I added. Mokuba shrugged.  
  
"Look right here," the kid ordered and pointed at me. "And think about Yami."  
  
Kaiba gave his little brother a funny look.  
  
That's two for the insane asylum today.  
  
"Just do it," Mokuba ordered.  
  
Kaiba stared at me. I stared back. Of course, the second I make a somewhat uncalled-for hand gesture, he sees me. Damn my luck.  
  
"This. . . idiot. . . is a ghost?" he demanded.  
  
"Idiot?! Who walked through me not even eight hours ago?" I yelled back. Kaiba got a funny look on his face, and he sneered.  
  
"You shouldn't care, now should you?" He seems kinda disgusted by what he'd done, but wasn't willing to show it.  
  
"Hey! I've still got feelings, you know!" And my feelings and I are amazed that Kaiba's not reacting at all. Well, he's insulting me, but that's becoming expected.  
  
I don't take hints well. Instead of leaving it there, I quite bravely continued.  
  
"Which is more than you can say." Brave, I know. It can't be suicidal, because I'm not thinking along those lines right now, and if I never hear anything about suicide ever again, it'll be too soon.  
  
Besides, who can kill me?  
  
I have the creepiest feeling that Yami can answer that.  
  
Just thinking about it got me wondering again. I turned back to the pharaoh.  
  
"So, what's up with not bein' able to leave th' house?" I asked. He blinked at me, then shrugged.  
  
"I have no problem with restrictions." Yeah. You wouldn't, you perfect little bastard.  
  
"All right, forget that. What about other weaknesses?" I was thinking of water. After my incident in the rain, I'd pretty much figured that water and ghosts don't mix well.  
  
"It's not just water," Yami said, sounding as if he were talking to a child. "It's liquid of any sort. Your ethereal body absorbs liquid. And cold, as well. Heat gives you energy. The colder you are, the less active you are. The wetter you are, the harder it is for you to move."  
  
So going outside, in spring, in the rain, had been a double whammy.  
  
Wait a second. . .  
  
"Talk about jumpin' to conclusions, what made you think about water in the first place? I didn't mention it, but you specifically said it wasn't JUST water." And what is an ethereal? I didn't say that, however. I decided to look it up later and try not to look so stupid in front of them.  
  
"Well, I assumed that you had tried leaving. You did say something about not being able to leave the house. It's raining out there, and cold." He looked up at me- I was floating about four feet off the ground now. "It was just an assumption on my part, but you're going to have to forgive me for my shortsightedness. I didn't know you were fast enough to dodge rain droplets."  
  
Is it any wonder I hate him? He's, hell, they're all too smart for me.  
  
"And glass?" I asked. "Glass is a solid, your highness." If I had been within reach and mortal, he probably would have hurt me. Despite the endless amounts of patience he had for others, he had no patience for me.  
  
"Do NOT call me that. You, somehow, make it sound like an insult." Yami jerked his gaze back down to Kaiba. The question was clear. I wasn't going to let it pass.  
  
"Hah!" I yelled. "The almighty, all-powerful, all-knowing Pharaoh can't tell me why glass stopped me! And you'd better believe I'm insulting you, spiky."  
  
Yami spun around to face me, but I was about three feet above his head by then. The look he gave me could have easily curdled milk.  
  
"Spiky?" he spat furiously.  
  
"Yeah. Spiky. Ever taken a look in the mirror?"  
  
"Have you?" he shot back. For once, I knew the answer.  
  
"Yes, I have, your majesty, and I can say I'm not surprised that I don't have a reflection." He looked mildly amazed by the fact that I actually knew something about myself. It passed quickly, though.  
  
"How many times am I going to have to tell you not to make jokes about my heritage?"  
  
"Stop usin' big words, Yami, you're confusin' poor little Yugi."  
  
I knew then that I'd pushed it a hair too far. He stepped forward, his eyes spitting violet fire at me, until he was as close as he could get. Considering that I was still floating near the ceiling, that wasn't very near, but his tone made me want to crawl under a rock and never come back out.  
  
"Do not insult my hikari."  
  
His voice was soft, almost a whisper. However, the coldness never left his gaze. The desire to find that rock was almost overwhelming.  
  
I saw then why he was pharaoh.  
  
Rule Number Four: Cold and liquids are no-no's.  
  
Rule Number Five: Never insult a hikari when the yami is present.  
  
Note to self: Look up 'ethereal' and 'hikari', ask Kaiba what's so special about glass, have someone bring in a large rock for future encounters with the Pharaoh. 


	9. Prelude to Terror, Shay's Way

Dancer: Yeah, I know, in that last chapter, Yami was really OOC. But, then again, he and Shay have a problem getting along no matter what. It's basically instinct that kicks in whenever another spirit is present. In other words, Yami's still nice to everybody else (everybody he's normally nice to, that is), but he and Shay are always trying to hurt each other.  
  
Flame: And 'spiky' is a nickname that I came up with for Yami on my very own. I know, we go from one character to the next in the bashing department, but that's the worst with Yami. Probably because he won't willingly enter the Kaiba mansion now. . . And the insults aimed towards Kaiba slow down too.  
  
Dancer: This is where Shay's too busy trying to figure out who/what he is to worry about those pesky, living people.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own YGO. And, like I promised. . . ::Flame chases Dancer with emsod::  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
About a week after my meeting with Yami, things had slowed down and cooled off considerably in the Kaiba mansion. Some incidents still occurred, naturally.  
  
Like Kaiba's laptop. The one I tried to carry through the ceiling. Stupid me, I mentioned it to him, and boom!  
  
It's broken. And Kaiba's mad at ME, of course, even though it's been three days. The thing didn't have a problem in the world until I said that it might have a dent in its casing. However, Kaiba took decided that it was simply a delayed reaction.  
  
Two days later, I found a cord in Mokuba's room that looked like a vital piece to Kaiba's replaced laptop.  
  
The kid's covered for me before, so I didn't way a word.  
  
Mokuba spent all waking- and non-school- hours helping me. He searched all the newspapers for me. According to Kaiba, I should have made a big splash. Too thin a line between suicide and murder, the police had to prove that I killed myself.  
  
Me, I was tickled pink at how he said it. Heartless bastard.  
  
I tried not to feel helpless and useless. After all, the only things I can do are sit- or float- there and say 'I don't know, I don't remember, don't ask me' (A/N: That's the reason for the title. . .)  
  
At the same time, I was really starting to miss some of the finer points of life. Ghosts don't get hungry, but I could really go for some food.  
  
Imagine it: a huge, 20-oz. fillet. Rare, of course. Huge baked potato with butter, cheese, sour cream, all the good stuff. Steak sauce so good, you want to drink it straight out of the bottle. Corn-on-the-cob with slabs of butter, literally melting off, and salt. Big, tall, cold glass of foamy beer. A huge slice of New York-style cheesecake, covered with strawberries. Real strawberries, not out of a can. And a little dab of whipped cream. Maybe a Caesar salad with Italian dressing poured on by the cups for starters.  
  
God, I feel sorry for the ghost who died hungry.  
  
If meals like that were commonplace for me, I wouldn't have lasted much longer anyway.  
  
I try not to stick around when the living people were eating. It gets me depressed.  
  
Not to give the impression of having a short-attention span, but some major changes started taking place around then.  
  
My powers started coming out. And Mokuba started having problems.  
  
Now, I know, it's very rare for anyone to pick on Mokuba. His older brother can scare the shit out of a ghost, for crying out loud. Not that I take any pride in being the aforementioned ghost.  
  
Still, no pun intended, some brave soul decided that Mokuba was a fine victim for his newest round of jokes.  
  
I'd stolen Kaiba's new laptop, taking care not to run this one into anything solid, and was playing the mine game. And getting blown up quite frequently, I might add. Mokuba stormed into the room and flung his backpack onto the floor, then wandered over to the couch and fell face- first onto it.  
  
I blinked and sat straight up. This was not normal after-school activities for Mokuba. In fact, if anything, he seemed to be pouting, and he just doesn't do that.  
  
"Hey, kid, what's wrong?" I asked as I looked back at him.  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"Nothin', huh?" I asked. Cancelled the game, shut the laptop. Turned to face him. "That's gotta be an awful bad nothin', then. I run into those a lot. Nothin's are vicious, aren't they? 'Specially when they look like nothin' big." My nonsense works. He looked up in order to give me a very odd look.  
  
"Seriously, what's up?" I asked. Tried to sound nonchalant. Kinda hard, since that kid really grows on you.  
  
Mokuba sighed and sat up. He stared at Kaiba's laptop, then grinned.  
  
I glanced around in confusion.  
  
"I think it's all good now," Mokuba answered. I remained confused.  
  
What can the laptop do that Mokuba can't? Besides just about everything.  
  
"Do you think you could convince Seto to take you to Kaiba Corp tomorrow?"  
  
"No way."  
  
"C'mon, Shay, I really need you to. Besides, it's worth a shot, right?"  
  
"Worth a shot?" I echoed. "What am I s'posed to do there? Float around and hope no one believes in ghosts? Look for bombs? See what's in the locked janitor's closet?"  
  
The last two were jokes. Mokuba took me seriously. His eyes went wide, and he stared at me until I clarified.  
  
"Relax, kid, they were just bad jokes." He didn't look like he believed me entirely, but I continued anyway. "'Sides, I can't leave the house. Remember rule number one? I do. Quite vividly."  
  
"You said yourself that you can leave, if you're careful."  
  
"And waste about a week's worth of energy. Trust me, kid, it gets pretty damn boring, just floatin' around and tryin' to get warm." I know, I shouldn't have cussed. It's hard, though. Bad habit.  
  
"Well," Mokuba said, "tomorrow my class goes to Kaiba Corp. for a field trip."  
  
"And do what?" I challenged. "Watch the little red line labeled 'stocks' go up and up and up and not understand diddly-shit? Stand at the bottom of the stairs and look up, and see it go on forever? Go onto the roof and take flying lessons?"  
  
"Shay," Mokuba scolded.  
  
"Well?" I countered defensively. "You're the only one who'll get what's goin' on. All the other kids will be lost. You're ten years old, you don't need to be worried 'bout that kinda shit!"  
  
"It's education. Preparing future business people for the advanced- technology world that we will dominate soon."  
  
I blinked. Big words, long sentences, confused Shay. Those three seem to go hand-in-hand.  
  
Mokuba sighed in exasperation.  
  
"Forget it," he ordered. "I'll go tell Seto to take you to Kaiba Corp. at about nine thirty."  
  
"He's got school tomorrow," I observed.  
  
"No, he doesn't."  
  
"How come he doesn't have school when everybody else does?"  
  
"He's got to be there for us," Mokuba announced proudly. "My school's lucky. They've got me. I got Seto to promise that he'd be there tomorrow. Now I'm going to tell him to bring you with."  
  
Don't you just love that kid's confidence? He doesn't have to wait until 'soon', he already dominates the world he knows. Well, happy hunting, Kaiba, I think I'll be hiding in a chimney.  
  
"Why?" I asked. Just curious. According to King Mokuba, I was going and that was that.  
  
"Because. I'm going to tell the kids on the bus tomorrow that Kaiba Corp. is haunted. And," he added with an impish grin, "I don't need to pretend, or even use cheap tricks. I've got a real ghost."  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Dancer: Never try to describe someone's favorite meal on an empty stomach. I am sooo hungry now. . .  
  
Flame: And no, beer is not a normal part of our favorite meal. We're not even legal yet. By American standards, Shay isn't either, but come on. His kind of person doesn't wait until 21 to get drunk.  
  
Dancer: His kind. . . ?  
  
Flame: Yes. High-school dropout, smoking, cussing, the works. No more than that, though, or I'd spoil the story. 


	10. How to Haunt Kaiba Corp

Flame: Considering that this is my first time with many things, I'm getting a lot more reviews than I thought I would. . .  
  
* * * * * = Passing time  
Disclaimer: ::Flame is still chasing Dancer with emsod. She pauses long enough to yell:: Look at the other chapters! If you still don't understand, then you're in trouble.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
I have never been a 'pet'. Until then, that is.  
  
"You've got a real ghost? As opposed to what?" I asked incredulously.  
  
"As opposed to using fake, cheap tricks to make kids think that Kaiba Corp. is haunted."  
  
We're not on the same page here.  
  
"No. What I mean is, why? Why bother with the ghost crap anyways?"  
  
Mokuba looked down at the couch cushion, then stood. He looked serious, grim.  
  
"th---ssom---dins---olma-----uno--me."  
  
"Huh?" I answered intelligently. He'd talked a bit too fast for me, and the sounds of the blender going in the kitchen hadn't helped much.  
  
"There's some kid in school making fun of me." He said it like he was chewing on ground glass.  
  
"And you decide to sic your friendly ghost on him instead of having Kaiba hunt him down?"  
  
Mokuba's head came up with a snap. "If Seto protects me all the time," he snapped defensively, "then I'll never be left alone. I have to deal with this, MY way."  
"And your way is to have me follow you on your field trip and do what?" I asked.  
  
Before Mokuba could answer, one of the maids called for him. He glanced at me, then ran into the kitchen. I followed after giving him a moment's head start.  
  
The maid handed him a glass of purple liquid. Both Mokuba and I stared at it.  
  
"Drink it," she ordered. "It's a grape smoothie. And Shay, stop making faces." Yeah, the maids can see me. Actually, they saw me without having to focus, like Kaiba. However, they did panic.  
  
I did as requested. Instead, I stared at the kid. He glared back, then took his first sip.  
  
Two seconds later, he was coughing. I caught the glass before it hit the floor, then quickly set it on the table. Mokuba kept up with the coughing until the maid threatened to hit him with a spoon.  
  
He grabbed a glass of water and beat it.  
  
Once in the living room, he looked at me and grimaced. "Way too foamy," he informed me. I didn't care; I was still curious about what I was supposed to be doing in tomorrow's rousing game of "Haunt Kaiba Corp."  
  
"Well," he said, "just be a ghost. You know, make things float around, turn the lights on and off, make noises."  
  
Great. In other words, waste more energy, while trying to keep from being sling-shotted across the city.  
  
Another answered-by-Yami question: Where do I get all my energy?  
  
Answer: The magic of the Shadow Realm, which supports everything like me. Shadow Powers, according to him. He and the other Yami's can actually use those powers.  
  
I only get a certain amount of energy per day, week, whatever. I told Mokuba, but he shrugged it off.  
  
"It's a chance to get out of the house," he pointed out.  
  
"Assuming it works," I countered. If I focused my energy enough, then the slingshot effect slides over me. I'd only ever gone about twenty feet before beating a hasty retreat back into the house. Now Mokuba was declaring a trek across Domino City.  
  
If I wasn't looking forward to the next day, it wasn't my fault.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Kaiba found me easily at nine forty-two. He'd been working on something, realized the time, and panicked.  
  
Yeah, right. Seto Kaiba never panics.  
  
"Shay! Come on! We had to be there twelve minutes ago!"  
  
You'd think someone like him makes a habit out of being punctual. But, no, we turn up twenty minutes late, and that was only because the driver sped the entire way. I could just imagine what would happen if we got pulled over.  
  
Mokuba wouldn't be happy, that's for sure.  
  
Fortunately, the bus had to stop to change a flat tire, so Mokuba was half an hour late.  
  
I was hanging out in the lobby when the glass doors opened and a long stream of kids started flowing in. With both feet firmly on the ground, I looked like a normal person. I hope.  
  
When about half the kids file through me without realizing it, I decided I was pretty much safe.  
  
I floated up, towards the ceiling, and scanned the pack for Mokuba.  
  
I spotted both my little friend and his bully at the same time. The bully was a bigger kid, probably held back a few years, and was heading towards the younger Kaiba.  
  
A nearby kid was carrying a pen. I relieved him of it and floated over to the bully.  
  
Mokuba saw both of us coming. He kept an even face. Brilliant kid.  
  
I whacked the back of the bully's head with the pen, then dropped it and floated over to Mokuba. The bully jumped about three feet, then spun around. The entire pack of kids stood behind him, and each and every one of them could have been the pen-tosser.  
  
Mokuba and I exchanged a quick high-five.  
  
"Glad you're here," he whispered, trying to look like he wasn't talking.  
  
"I almost wasn't. Kaiba got moving about three minutes ago."  
  
Mokuba sighed, then listened as the teacher gave out orders.  
  
"Third floor," he informed me, then gave up his individuality and became one of the crowd as they tromped towards the stairs. I cheated, and simply floated through two floors.  
  
A mischievous streak previously unseen in me came into play then. I saw the door to the stairs. A sign beside the door said 'Stairs. Floor 3.' Thick door, no glass. Knowing Kaiba, soundproof too.  
  
And a lock, calling my name and begging me to follow through.  
  
I locked it. Then, feeling particularly vicious, I floated down to floor 2 and locked that one. Then, up to floor 4. Locked that door. Back down to the third floor, cruised around while looking for another set of stairs. Locked that, too.  
  
Then I sat back, ready and raring for the fun to start.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Dancer: Mean Shay. Mean Flame, too. ::Rubs her head where she was hit with the emsod. . . several times::  
  
Flame: Yeah, I know. Shay's mean streak starts making its appearance here. Besides, he's doing just what Mokuba told him to. However, fear not for the little people. . . there's elevators. 


	11. Thumb Tacks, Markers, and Rubber Cement

Flame: I'm writing all of this ahead of time, so I can't give up in the middle. I'll have it all on the puter.  
  
Disclaimer: ::Dancer walks up, with a bandaged head. She holds up a sign::  
  
I do not own YGO.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
About ten minutes later, the first elevator ding rang across the room. The first of many.  
  
I was quiet pleased with myself. The teacher looked stumped, as if she couldn't figure out why the doors were locked. Mokuba tossed me a quick grin before the pack was shuffled down the hallway and into what looked like a conference room.  
  
The teacher closed the door behind her, but I just floated through, then turned off the lights.  
  
About half the kids screamed.  
  
I flipped the switch again, turning them back on. Everyone immediately swung around to look at me.  
  
Nobody was standing close enough to the switch to be playing with it.  
  
The teacher stood in front of me, addressing the pack. However, before she could even open her mouth, Mokuba muttered under his breath.  
  
"Told you there's a ghost haunting this place."  
  
I took my cue and turned the lights off again.  
  
This time, all of them screamed, and I thought I heard Mokuba laugh.  
  
The teacher reached through me and turned the lights on.  
  
"Now, class, there is no such things as ghosts. Mokuba, stop trying to scare them. Now, why don't we all just sit down and wait for the kind young man to come."  
  
Kind young man? Certainly she didn't mean Kaiba? I shrugged and hit the switch as soon as her hand was out of the way.  
  
She kept her hand under the switch after that.  
  
I moved on to the desk. Computer. Pile of papers. Nothing unusual. I looked for a phone jack. When I found it, I unplugged it, carefully setting it on the ground.  
  
Mokuba stood and wandered over to where I was. He sat down in the chair and pulled open a drawer.  
  
Rubber bands, staplers, dry erase markers for the white board behind us. I picked up the white out, but Mokuba took it away and put it back. Staples for the stapler. A box of paperclips. Pens and pencils galore. Sticky notes of a bright pink that hurt the eyes. Thumb tacks. An extra notebook. Safety pins. Memos. A bottle of rubber cement.  
  
Wait a moment. Thumb tacks?  
  
Mokuba walked back to the pack of kids, leaving the drawer open, and I grabbed a handful of thumb tacks. The teacher informed the younger Kaiba of his error, and I grabbed a dry erase marker and the rubber cement while I had the chance. He shut the drawer.  
  
I placed my treasures on the desk near the keyboard, then turned the computer off. Ready for anything, I sat in the chair and waited.  
  
It wasn't Kaiba who walked in a few minutes later. He was too old, too short, and too lacking in I.Q.  
  
I didn't catch his name, but I did notice that he was the nervous sort, always looking around and swallowing a lot.  
  
I picked up a thumb tack, floated over to the nearest kid, and pinned his shirt to the carpet. I repeated it with three more thumb tacks before he reached back, as if to swat at the annoyance, so I left him alone grabbed the marker.  
  
As soon as the man wasn't looking my way, I wrote "Hi to all" in big letters.  
  
I capped the marker and dropped it. Floated to the computer and turned it on. It made some noise as it started up, causing everyone to look back at it.  
  
The kids all saw my message. Half of them surged to their feet, including the one I had pinned down. It took him three tries before he found his feet, and that was only with a loud RIP.  
  
In about two seconds, Mokuba was the only one who wasn't crammed into the corner around the teacher.  
  
"This place is haunted!" one of the kids wailed. I couldn't help it. The irony of it all made me start to laugh.  
  
Kaiba Corp. was haunted, all right, but the haunter had been hired by the haunted!  
  
"No, it's not," the man fumbled. He was staring at my writing. "It's just somebody's sick sense of humor. . ."  
  
Boy, he was close.  
  
As the kids went out into the hallway, I stirred the bottle of rubber cement. When it was ready, I floated up behind the bully and poured it on his head.  
  
Rubber cement pours slowly, so I had to drop it when he spun around. Still, I got about a third of the bottle on his head.  
  
That was when I got a call over the intercom. Asking for me.  
  
Kaiba was calling.  
  
I said good-bye to Mokuba and floated up, through more levels than should ever be in one building. I stopped about nose-to-nose with Kaiba. He stepped back and gave me a sharp look at the same time.  
  
"I think I know why Mokuba requested you come along," he snapped. "Well, play time's over. You're staying here." 


	12. Flying Blue Eyes

Flame: I know, the last chapter was short. SO GO CRY ABOUT IT, YOU BIG BABIES!!!  
  
Dancer: ::Hits Flame with her chemistry book:: I knew this was good for something.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own YGO.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
After being trapped in the mansion for a week, you'd think I'd get used to having to stay in one place.  
  
No, not really.  
  
I paced, or floated, right in front of Kaiba's desk. He ignored me and went on with his day as if there wasn't a ghost prowling around the room.  
  
I suppose he got used to me after a week of me floating around and asking questions, like, is glass a liquid?  
  
Besides, his day isn't half as amusing without me to laugh at.  
  
I eventually got around to asking when we were leaving. His answer?  
  
"Five, maybe five thirty. I'm not going to use my little brother's class field trip as an excuse to waste a day. You can leave if you want to, but I'm going to make this worthwhile."  
  
I stared at him. I'm not used to somebody actually WANTING to work. Then again, I've only seen Kaiba around the house, and even then, he's gone a lot. I suppose having your own multi-billion dollar company does make for a long day.  
  
However, having your own company does not mean your resident ghost has to have a long day. It was barely eleven, and I was already considering riding the slingshot back to the mansion.  
  
Fortunately, Kaiba's got a great setup. Big, wide open spaces. Lots of shiny tile and huge glass windows. A small elevator that apparently only goes to this floor and the roof. And Duel Monster cards.  
  
I can't remember if I ever played, but I can tell that no one can beat this guy. I snatched his briefcase and carried it over to the far side of the room. Upon opening the lid, I could only stare.  
  
Wow.  
  
And they say money can't buy happiness.  
  
Three Blue Eyes White Dragons. Three. As if one isn't enough to destroy everything it comes across, he's got to have three.  
  
However, I remembered an off-handed comment of Mokuba's and have to ask.  
  
"Hey, Kaiba. . . Nice deck you got here, but hasn't someone already beaten you?"  
  
Kaiba got up and stormed over. He slammed the lid shut, almost catching my fingers, and stomps back to his desk without saying a word.  
  
I blinked and looked at the three Blue Eyes I was still holding. He hadn't given me a chance to put them back.  
  
"Um. . . Kaiba. . ."  
  
"Shut up, Shay, it's none of your business."  
  
I blinked again, then looked back at him.  
  
"You might be miss-"  
  
"I said shut up," he snapped. Okay. Sensitive subject. I get the point.  
  
I shut up.  
  
At least I tried.  
  
I turned back around and stared at the door. Tried to open it with my mind. Maybe ghosts are really messed up psychics in some ways.  
  
I almost jump when the door does open, but it's just some guy in a suit who walks right past me. Reporting to Kaiba, no doubt.  
  
He stopped about three steps beyond me, then moved backward.  
  
The three cards were floating in midair.  
  
I realized this and dropped them with a curse.  
  
Kaiba gave me a really nasty look. "What is it this time?" he snapped. He was obviously not in a good mood, and my presence was like a mosquito- annoying enough to slowly push him over the edge, but not annoying enough for him to have a good reason to kill me.  
  
Or, at least try.  
  
"Um, sir. . ." the man began. Like me, he was trying.  
  
"What?" Kaiba was pissed. Like really, really pissed. I couldn't help but wonder if he'd rather be in school.  
  
Well, he wouldn't have to put up with me. I guess that's a bonus.  
  
"Uh. . . your cards. . . they're, ah, floating."  
  
Now would be a very wise time to leave.  
  
"Why am I not surprised?" he growled. Standing, he walked over to me.  
  
Have you ever been approached by, say, a Doberman pinscher? Or a shark? Or anything else that has a killer reputation? Then you know how I felt right then.  
  
I lunged away while I still had the chance.  
  
He picked up the cards, turned, walked towards the desk. Stopped. Turned and looked at me.  
  
Help me.  
  
"Leave. Now." He was still giving me a death look rivaled only by Yami's. I was about three seconds away from becoming a victim of rule number one, simply because I was too scared to concentrate.  
  
The man took his cue and beat it.  
  
"NO! Take me with you!" I yelled. Kaiba stopped me by jumping in front. He held the three Blue Eyes like they were sacred.  
  
"I tried to tell you," I defended. "I so tried to tell you, but you told me to shut up."  
  
"What were you doing digging around in my cards anyway?" He was real quiet. The yelling, the screaming, the cussing. . . Between him and Yami, I was really starting to miss all that.  
  
"Just looking," I answered innocently. "You shouldn't leave your stuff lying around, unlocked and open- OOF!"  
  
Don't ask me how, but he grabbed the front of my shirt and jerked me forward. His eyes were flashing, and I somehow found myself recalling my encounter with Yami and comparing the two.  
  
As previously noted, I can't tell who scares me more.  
  
"Do. Not. Touch. Anything. Else. In. My. Office. Am I clear?"  
  
Crystal clear, and I'm nodding like a bobble-head.  
  
Kaiba released me and walked over to the door. He stopped right in front of it, then turned and glared at me.  
  
Nothing needed to be said. I nodded again, then obediently sat down and did nothing for the next two and a half hours.  
  
If you honestly think that's what I did, you need to reread the last eleven chapters.  
  
I sat there like a good little ghost for about three minutes. As soon as Kaiba was busy with the man who had noticed the floating cards, I drifted upward.  
  
If I wasn't within shouting distance, I could pretty much mark myself down for a second death.  
  
Rule Number Six: Seto Kaiba does not like to be haunted.  
  
Note to self: No more touching things in Kaiba's office. No more haunting trips for Mokuba, either. 


	13. Can We Leave Now?

Flame: Yes, I know the last chapter was boring. Still, you got to see how Kaiba scares the crap out of Shay.  
  
Dancer: ::holding disclaimer sign and chem book:: Yeah. Now tell them the other part.  
  
Flame: AngelStarfire decided to do a yaoi starring shay and Kaiba. . . No read if you don't like yaoi! The story and character were originally mine, but she's just borrowing him. One story has nothing to do with the other, since that is before he died and he can't remember anything.  
  
WARNING: I just sent what could be considered a hate mail to someone who was picking at my friend's stories. I am a very opinionated person, and I like to get my point across. Flame me all you want, I'll probably just laugh. Flame AngelStarfire or her stories and you are at risk of my wrath. So, you got a problem with yaoi, you don't read her stories. That's all there is to it. If I feel the need to remind you of that, it will not be in a nice way. Review and smile, school's almost out! Think about all the updates I can do. . .  
  
Disclaimer: ::Dancer appears and hammers her disclaimer sign into the ground.:: I don't own YGO. However, the character Shay belongs to me, and AngelStarfire will be borrowing him.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
I found myself on the roof.  
  
Helicopter pad, wide open space. Not a lot up there. I wandered over to the edge of the building and looked down.  
  
I got dizzy and felt a brief moment of fear. Considering that I can float, that's saying something.  
  
After two minutes of wandering, I got bored and headed back down.  
  
No suit in sight. I knew Kaiba was still furious, but I had to try.  
  
"Hey, Seto," I spoke softly. He could ignore me if he wanted. And, for about three minutes, it appeared as if he had.  
  
"Why is it," he asked suddenly, when I had just given up hope, "that you only call me by my first name when you want something?"  
  
We've only known each other for a week, right? How can he claim that's an absolute? Not that it isn't, mind you, because he told the truth.  
  
"It's called butterin' you up," I answered honestly. For a split second, he actually smiled. Not evil, not sarcastic. Simply out of humor.  
  
Whoa. So he DOES smile.  
  
I crossed my fingers behind my back and watched him hopefully.  
  
Kaiba slowly put down the pen he'd been writing with and looked up at me. A shadow of the earlier smile still showed on his face.  
  
"What do you want, Shay?"  
  
"I just wanna go find Mokuba. I won't annoy anyone, I promise." I got ready for the no.  
  
"Fine. Just be careful, all right? No more floating Duel Monsters cards."  
  
Sweet. Real conversation. Actual, real conversation without insults or sarcasm or hatred being beamed across the room.  
  
Maybe Seto Kaiba was all right after all.  
  
I grinned and floated through the floor.  
  
Maybe. I wouldn't count on it.  
  
I didn't find Mokuba. Then again, I didn't put much effort into looking, either. I just wandered around and enjoyed the sights. When Kaiba was called to a conference at noon, I floated up to his office and stood looking out the window.  
  
The city stretched below me. Not a small city, but not big. Kaiba Corp. is the tallest building. I felt like a predator surveying my turf.  
  
I was beginning to understand Kaiba a little bit. I'd rather work with a view like this as my surroundings than go to school. He knows how to live in style.  
  
At twelve thirty, he came back. He stopped in the doorway, apparently surprised to see me, then continued on to his desk. True to my word, I had touched nothing, but he didn't notice.  
  
"They'll be here in two minutes." He was talking to me. Seto Kaiba had actually started a conversation with me. Me. Shay. The ghost.  
  
I think hell froze over and his humanity had to return.  
  
"Who?" Of course, being one to think about those things later, I spoil a perfect moment with my dum-dum questions.  
  
Kaiba ignored me.  
  
Ok. That works.  
  
He shifted things around on his desk, looked at the windows and the killer views, then gestured for me to get behind the desk.  
  
"If you see Mokuba," he said, "feel free to wave, but. . . You stay right were you are. Got it?"  
  
No threats, no insults, no sarcasm. I'm all too happy to agree.  
  
Before I could move, the elevator out in the hallway dinged.  
  
See, Kaiba's got more than just this great, roomy office. He's got the entire top floor to himself. There's a hallway leading to the elevators and a set of stairs, but the stairs are narrow and dimly lit and the elevator's big enough to fit one of his mansion's guest rooms.  
  
Trust me. That's big.  
  
So, the elevator with its plush, cushioned seats and mirror-like golden walls and thick carpet that you literally sink into is a better bet than the stairs.  
  
I darted over to his desk, then froze.  
  
His computer would, can, and probably has, kick the crap out of every other computer in the world.  
  
I stopped at the wall, staring out the large window. Kaiba sat down, played with the computer for a moment. I looked back, then wandered over to watch.  
  
He ignored me. Again.  
  
When the doors burst open, the voice of children reached me. I looked up, surprised, then watched as the entire pack came to a halt before the desk. They didn't want to sit down, apparently.  
  
Mokuba pulled free and ran around the desk, to us. Kaiba smiled again- wow! Second time in one day!- before shifting his attention back to the rest of the kids.  
  
They were all looking around with big eyes.  
  
Kaiba took advantage and addressed me, making it look like he was talking to Mokuba.  
  
"Go down and wait by the limo," he ordered. "I'm sending Mokuba home early, you might as well wait there and not annoy me."  
  
Mokuba opened his mouth to protest, but I'm already beating it. I stop long enough to search for the bully, but don't find him.  
  
Oops. Guess I scared him off.  
  
I dropped through the countless floors and look around for the said limo.  
  
I guess we don't have to worry about bullies anymore. 


	14. Bugs

Flame: I didn't mean to scare anyone with that last chapter, I'm just kinda. . . very. . . extremely protective of my friend. ::huggles AngelStarfire::  
  
Dancer: Ok, you're both weird.  
  
Disclaimer: ::Sign from last chapter still stands::  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
We headed back to the mansion an hour before school's over.  
  
Kaiba stayed until five, true to his word. I pity him, I really do. Up until then, I had sort of assumed that he wasn't around simply to avoid me. I thought Kaiba Corp. was sort of a self-running company.  
  
Well, it's self-running all right, since it is Kaiba who's slaving away for it.  
  
Mokuba strode through the hallway like some sort of king as we walked in. I was once again claimed victim of the chibi-King-Mokuba image, and I started laughing.  
  
He ignored me.  
  
Boy, both Kaibas were getting good at that.  
  
I floated up to Kaiba's office, like he needed one. The high-tech room I had first stopped in. My heaven.  
  
Too bad he'd find some way of killing me if he ever caught me in there.  
  
To my surprise, I was in the room for no more than three seconds before the door opened and Mokuba marched in. He was holding a CD.  
  
"I'm not in here," I informed him before rapidly scooting away.  
  
"Wait," he ordered. I blinked in confusion. Mokuba met my gaze for a moment, then gestured to the laptop on the desk before walking out.  
  
I took a guess and picked it up, then followed him.  
  
He stopped at the nearest elevator, then turned to me and held one finger up to his lips.  
  
Quiet. Right. I got it. What's with all the secrecy?  
  
Mokuba pulled a credit card look-alike out of his pocket and strode into the little metal box. By then, I was thoroughly confused, but I still followed.  
  
He put the card in a little slot under the buttons, then hit "B".  
  
Ahh. Basement. Gotcha. You need a special card to get down there.  
  
Or you could take my approach and float down, but that's kind of hard for living people to manage.  
  
It was a deal warmer in the basement, my sole reason for ever coming down here. Mokuba paused when the doors opened and took a steadying breath before moving out. It must smell awful down there, but he's got a reason.  
  
I think.  
  
As soon as the elevator door closes, Mokuba spun around to face me.  
  
"We're bugged."  
  
"Huh?" My number-one saying in this house-for-geniuses. "You got roaches or somethin'?"  
  
"No," he answered. "Electronic bug."  
  
"Wind-up roaches?"  
  
"No," he snapped. "Cameras. Microphones. Someone's trying to spy on us."  
  
"So get some bug spray."  
  
I'm behind the times, I can tell. He started staring at me, then shook his head.  
  
"I give up. Just help me, all right?"  
  
Boy, I feel supported.  
  
"With what?"  
  
"This." Well, wasn't that descriptive?  
  
He took the laptop and opened it, taking its cord and plugging it in. He then opened the CD drive and put the little, shiny disk in. Shiny has been an interest to me as of late, for some reason.  
  
Sitting down in front of the computer, he signed in and watched as the program unfolded before him.  
  
A map of Japan appeared, then a blue box was drawn around our half of the country. Then our general area, then our city. Then onto our half of the city.  
  
Kaiba's mansion came into view, then Mokuba's bedroom.  
  
Tracker. Wow.  
  
There's a small chain sitting on his desk, and the view has fixated on it.  
  
"I'll be wearing that from now on," he informed me. "Just a precaution. Don't tell Seto, he probably won't like it."  
  
"Well, I wouldn't approve if my little brother went paranoid on me, either," I answered honestly. He frowned at me.  
  
"All right," he announced as he stood. "Hide this somewhere where you know you'll find it." He handed me the disk, then unplugged the laptop, gave it to me, and headed towards the elevator.  
  
There was a distinct CRACK when the laptop ran into the back of Mokuba's head.  
  
"Ow! Watch it!" he ordered, jumping away and rubbing his new bruise.  
  
"Well, don't just stop!" I snapped back.  
  
"I just want to say, watch what you're saying up there. The bugs listen for words, and they already know you're a ghost. We don't want to give them more than that."  
  
"And what's wrong with telling Kaiba all this?" I asked curiously.  
  
"I can't," he countered. "Not yet, at least. Just. . . remember."  
  
Right. Now he's trying to get ME paranoid too. I shrugged and followed him into the elevator. He slides the card in again, hits the floor with Kaiba's office on it.  
  
I stowed the little CD in a hidden drawer in the desk, then watched as Mokuba set the laptop up just right.  
  
"He gets mad at you, too?"  
  
He nodded. Moved the laptop an inch to the left.  
  
The tension finally snapped me.  
  
"All right, he doesn't have it measured out, let's go," I said. I would have pushed him out the door if I could touch him. We could manage small touches, like high-fives, but Kaiba was the only one who could touch me for more than two seconds.  
  
As of then, we hadn't figured out why. Actually, we just asked the wrong person.  
I was honestly worried. As previously said, Kaiba's a pain in the ass, but Mokuba's cool. I don't want anything to happen to either, since Kaiba is considered vital to Mokuba's continued existence in this house.  
  
If somebody wanted to bug the house, they had a reason, and it was more than just to confuse me. 


	15. I Can't Remember, But I Won't Forget

Dancer: Argh! When I was celebrating about school ending, it WASN'T so the crunch could begin!  
  
Flame: School ends in four weeks, what are you whining about?  
  
Dancer: THEY'RE CALLED FINALS! I'VE GOT SIX!  
  
Flame: They're called tranquilizers. I've got plenty.  
  
Dancer: You stay away from me.  
  
Flame: Oh, and to Crystal Kitty: I had actually typed up most of this chapter before I got your review. . . weird. . . I included him on the chapter you asked for him without even realizing it.  
  
Disclaimer: ::Sign still stands where Dancer put it, with a piece of paper taped on.:: Shikoti belongs to AngelStarFire, who agreed to let me borrow her for this fic.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
The mechanical bugs, and my fear of them, didn't stay on my mind for long.  
  
I'd been there since Saturday, and Mokuba's field trip was on the Friday after that.  
  
I came out of the basement, where I spent my nights, and found one of the two inhabitants missing the following day.  
  
"I thought Kaiba didn't work on Saturdays," I commented as Shikoti, a maid, poured Mokuba a bowl of cereal.  
  
"He doesn't," she answered. "He's at the office for easier access to information."  
  
"Information about what?" I have to ask. It's inevitable.  
  
"You," came her simple response.  
  
I blinked as she walked into the dining room. Me? Kaiba was using that heavenly supercomputer to get info on me? The computer that made me want to get down on my knees and say a prayer, thanking the god of computers for this masterpiece?  
  
I feel blessed, just knowing that much.  
  
That was about when I forgot all about the bugs.  
  
I waited by the front door, like a dog waiting for the master to get back. I know, it's pathetic, but I really, really wanted to see anything he'd found.  
  
"You need to get a life," Shikoti informed me when she happened to walk past almost four hours later.  
  
"Can't have one, I'm dead."  
  
"Get a hobby."  
  
"Can't get one, Kaiba'd kill me."  
  
"Well, do something besides just float there!"  
  
I obediently put both feet on the floor.  
  
"That's not what I meant." she snarled.  
  
"C'mon, Shikoti, you can only ask so much from me," I whined.  
  
"Oh, by the way, Yugi's coming over in a few minutes. Yami wants to hear your story."  
  
She can only ask for so much, but she couldn't tell me anything else and get better results.  
  
"WHAT???!!!" Like I said before, Yugi's okay. Maybe, if I weren't another spirit, Yami would be okay too. However, I'm a ghost, aka spirit, and so, he's not okay. He's 'keep him as far away as humanely possible, and toss another hundred miles in there because he certainly ain't human' okay.  
  
"Yugi. Is. Coming. Over. Soon. Do. I. Need. To. Spell. It. Out. For. You."  
  
No, that's okay, saying it slow and loud makes it easier for me to accept that my worst enemy has just been invited over to learn all about my previous life.  
  
Shikoti leaves me there to deal with my panic attack. She apparently wants nothing to do with hyperventilating ghosts.  
  
Outside, a car door slams.  
  
I made it to the basement in record time.  
  
The doorbell rings. It echoes through the house. I look at the ceiling, but I'm not moving.  
  
Someone jumps on the landing right above me. Probably Mokuba, as I doubt the maids would slide down the banister.  
  
The doorbell rings again, then again.  
  
DING DONG! DING DON-DI-DI-DI-DI-DI-DING DONG!  
  
I swear, I am so going to kill that Pharaoh.  
  
From the sounds of it, so is Yugi, as he yells at Yami to quit playing with the doorbell.  
  
Door opened. Mokuba said hi, sounding surprised. Probably Shikoti's idea to invite them over. I'm gonna get her for this.  
  
Mokuba yelled for me, but I stayed in the basement. He stops right above me. Tells me without him saying a word that he knows precisely where I am. Too bad you need one of those cards to get in, and I unburdened him of his already.  
  
The door opened again, and I heard the last voice I ever wanted to hear in this situation.  
  
Kaiba told me to haul my ass out of the basement before he came down there and did it himself. Arrogant little bastard can do it, too.  
  
I floated upward for a moment, then stop to consider hiding in the ceiling.  
  
No. I'm not THAT anxious to avoid Yami.  
  
I floated through the floor and looked around. Two new people, looking suspiciously alike.  
  
Yay. Another Yami.  
  
"Oh, so this is what all the commotion is about," I said in one of those suddenly-enlightened tones. "Sorry, I wasn't aware we had pests. I mean guests."  
  
Yami glared at me. Not surprisingly, we're not getting off to a good start.  
  
Kaiba, however, actually chuckled.  
  
He put a laptop on the table- how many of those things has he got? Laptops aren't cheap- and opened it, then gestured for me to look at it.  
  
"Who's he?" I asked, pointing towards the two newcomers.  
  
"That's Ryou, and Bakura," Yugi supplied before Kaiba could even blink.  
  
"Yami?" I asked, shifting my attention to the Puzzle wearer. He nodded.  
  
Fantastic. Not only do I have to deal with the Pharaoh, but I also have to deal with another yami who looks decidedly nastier than the first.  
  
I see a downhill pattern in my lifestyle here.  
  
"So, what were you?" I asked Bakura. Probably safer to ask, judging by how Yami had snapped at me for the whole once-was Pharaoh thing.  
  
He glared at me, so I took a stab at it.  
  
"A slave? Or maybe one of those people who made the mummies."  
  
I was looking for some reaction from him. I got one, all right.  
  
His eyes went dangerously narrow.  
  
"Tomb robber," he corrected in a tone to match. "Call me a slave again and you'll regret it."  
  
I grinned. "But the mummy maker's cool, huh?"  
  
"No."  
  
I shifted my attention to Ryou instead. He looked nice enough, but then again, so did Shikoti, and I had basically figured out that both ancient Egyptians were here to torture me. Everyone in this household has got some grudge against me.  
  
"Can it, Shay, we have more important things to worry about," Kaiba snapped as I opened my mouth. I closed it and spun around to face him. He pointed to the laptop, then moved away.  
  
I floated over, casually looked at the screen. And froze.  
  
In big, glaring letters, was the words:  
  
"TEEN FOUND DEAD IN PARK."  
  
And, under it:  
  
"Was It Murder. . . Or Suicide? Police Are Baffled."  
  
Police are baffled? How about me? How did Kaiba GET this stuff?  
  
"Look at the date," Kaiba ordered me.  
  
Well, fine, master, but first let me get down on my knees and see if it's possible for ghosts to lick people's boots.  
  
Still, I did as he suggested.  
  
October 31. I'd been dead for six months, but only remembered the past week and a half.  
  
Have a happy Halloween. I know I didn't. 


	16. Unknown Memories

Flame: All right, I have to be quiet. It's two thirty on a Saturday morning, I 'wake up' in five hours to get ready for a dog show (I'm showing my puppy! Except she's eight, almost nine, so she's not a puppy anymore. . . ), and I'm typing this instead. See how much I care for you?  
  
Bobgod (Flame's nickname for Dancer's puter): ::pops up with a really loud error that starts singing FFVII's victory song due to the program recently downloaded, giving Flame a heart attack::  
  
Flame: NO!! Evil Bobgod, quiet!  
  
Dancer: Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. . . . . . . . . ::lying on the bed behind Flame, 'sleeping' off the effects of the tranquilizer that Flame 'accidentally' poked her with.::  
  
Flame: ::looks back at Dancer:: It's for her own good, I promise.  
  
VampireBat: ::stares in disbelief:: You mean you actually WANT to be a part of this madness? Wow. You're brave. Just e-mail me at drgongrl@swbell.net and tell me name, age, appearance, attitude, so on, and I'll try to work you in. It won't be in the next chapter or two, because there are some major things going on, but hey, I'm honestly surprised this story has gone this far. ^_^  
  
Disclaimer: ::Sign and piece of paper taped to it still stand::  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Where were you between November 1st and April 14th?"  
  
Kaiba's taken to pacing. He apparently had the article memorized.  
  
"I don't remember." I'm still stunned, shaken to the core. That's ME on the screen. Me, with those huge, accusing letters below the picture of my dead body.  
  
I think I understood at that moment, better than ever, why Yami was so easily offended. I mean, I took that picture straight to heart. Imagine how he must feel, with a good majority of his ancestors and descendants on display in glass boxes.  
  
Maybe humans of today take the dead for advantage. That's certainly how I feel.  
  
"Heh. He doesn't remember." Bakura sneered, and I glared at him.  
  
"What? Don't you have a problem with memories?"  
  
If he says no, I'm going to punch him.  
  
"Somewhat," he answered evasively. "I don't let it bother me, though."  
  
I consider punching him anyway.  
  
"You should be able to," he continued, in a tone that made it sound like an insult. Like I should know this stuff.  
  
"Maybe," I growled, "just maybe, there's a POINT behind these lack of memories. Like, oh, say, we only have so much room for memories, and rememberin' our previous lives would put a big limit on it."  
  
"I doubt it." Arrogant little asshole.  
  
"Shay," Yami warned softly, obviously catching the death look. "He's just trying to pick a fight. Don't let him annoy you."  
  
Thanks for caring, Yami, but you spoke a moment too late.  
  
I stared at Bakura for another second, then backed down. I was too preoccupied with my previous life to pick a fight.  
  
After a few minutes of reading, I'd had enough. I'd been your average high- school dropout- drinking, smoking, cussing, the works. Apparently, I'd been an orphan and a social reject as a result of it.  
  
My parents had both died when I was young. I'd grown moody and depressed and refused to have anything to do with the outside world. I'd had no friends or family, instead, I'd been shuffled across the country from orphanage to orphanage.  
  
At sixteen, I officially said good-bye to continued education and started living off of various jobs I could get, wandering from city to city as hatred and scorn for me spread. I'd been twenty, with no one to really care for me, when some kid had found me, bleeding to death slowly, in the park one rainy Halloween.  
  
No wonder I like this life better. After only a week, I already had more than I had managed to get in twenty years.  
  
"You sure you want me in your house?" I asked, looking up at Kaiba.  
  
He shrugged. "Do I get an option? Besides, if you try anything funny, I can just ask Bakura or Yami to come over."  
  
That list of people-I-hate-for-a-very-good-reason as just grown one.  
  
Several hours later, neither yami has left. They're too busy talking about what could have possibly held me up for six months.  
  
I was racing Mokuba in some game or another. He was winning. Not too surprising, but still, I was putting up quite a fight.  
  
I dropped the controller and rubbed my thumbs to make sure they were still attached. Mokuba stood and stretched, then stopped.  
  
We were both looking at the same place, at the same time.  
  
I slowly picked up the keys to Kaiba's limo and grinned, turning to face Mokuba.  
  
"Have you ever gone joyriding?"  
  
He shook his head.  
  
"No? Well, lemme show you what you've been missin'." 


	17. Troubles of the LimeGreen SUV

Flame: Whoa, I made somebody very happy. . . ::rereads VampireBat's e-mail again.:: I wrote back, so you should be getting mail soon.  
  
Dancer: Why did you use a tranquilizer on me?  
  
Flame: Because you were overloading and- Hey! I didn't do it on purpose!  
  
Dancer: ::hits Flame with her Chemistry book anyway::  
  
Disclaimer: This is getting very repetitive, but I'm getting new chars that don't even belong to me. So, I don't own YGO, or Shikoti. She belongs to AngelStarfire.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Ryou was staring dully at the wall when I came to rescue him. It had been Mokuba's idea to invite him along, as well as to take another vehicle.  
  
Actually, I had to agree with him there. The limo screams "Kaiba".  
  
Ryou glanced at me as I floated over to him. He looked bored, but I supposed he couldn't be blamed for that.  
  
I gestured for him to follow me, then floated out.  
  
He blinked, then glanced back at his yami. Silently, he stood up and followed me.  
  
"I'm getting' outta here," I informed him. "Wanna come?"  
  
Mokuba held the car keys behind his back and gave Ryou his best puppy-dog eyes.  
  
He glanced between the two of us in suspicion for a moment, but his trusting nature won out.  
  
"All right," he answered. I grinned. Just what we needed- a chance to get out of this psycho place.  
  
An hour later, I was driving carefully down the road. Being invisible to some people makes for a difficult time driving.  
  
The car Mokuba had chosen was actually an SUV. A decent sized one, too. Probably wouldn't fit into a normal garage, but like everything else in Kaiba's mansion, the garage is hugely oversized. Darkly tinted windows, so my fears of not being seen were mostly in vain. CD player, great radio, six- count 'em, six- cup holders in the first row alone. According to Mokuba and Ryou, the AC's good as well.  
  
The best thing about it?  
  
It's lime green.  
  
People kept staring at me as I wandered from one part of the city to another. I stood out, that's for sure. Amid the dull sea of red, blue, white, black, real green, and the occasional yellow or purple, I was the first thing even a blind man was bound to notice.  
  
I started out with a full tank of gas. I let Suv, as I came to call it, guide me.  
  
As I was driving past a turnoff onto the highway, the steering wheel turned for me.  
  
First, I should probably explain that Ryou made me promise to avoid any busy roads. It had taken us twenty minutes to convince him that I wasn't going to get into an accident and kill him.  
  
So, he didn't like this new environment much.  
  
"What are we doing on the highway?" he asked.  
  
"Don't ask me," I answered, but I was grinning. Mokuba, who was sitting next to me, wisely put his seat belt on.  
  
I heard Ryou scrambling around in the seat behind me, but it was Mokuba who clarified what he was doing.  
  
"Ryou!" he protested, twisting around so he could see his pale-haired friend. "You only need one seat belt, ok? If we get in a wreck, three isn't going to help you anymore than one is."  
  
Thanks for the support, both of you.  
  
"I'm not gonna get you killed," I reassured them. Put on more gas. For the longest of seconds, Suv didn't respond, so I really put the pedal to the metal.  
  
Now I know how they can rightfully say '0 to 200+ in two seconds flat'.  
  
Tires squealed, and we were propelled forward. Everybody on the upcoming highway shifted to one side, obviously noting my none-too-safe acceleration.  
  
I flew, literally flew, onto the highway going 80 mph.  
  
There was a definite WHUMP as all four tires reunited with the ground at the same time.  
  
I jerked the wheel as far to the left as mechanically possible, trying my best to stay on the road and out of other cars, but never once let up on the gas.  
  
Our speed climbed steadily from 80 to 100 mph during this time.  
  
I finally eased off a bit, still going way over the speed limit. I glanced back and saw dark, black marks were Suv had landed.  
  
Using my master controls, I opened all windows, all the way. AC on full blast, even though I can't feel it. Music up as loud as the little knob could turn.  
  
I couldn't even hear myself think.  
  
I knew what Ryou was thinking, however, and my biggest hint came from the fact that he was clinging to the back of my chair.  
  
All other cars I left behind in a hurry, speeding until I found a spot where no other cars were. Then, I turned down the music and asked the two of their opinion.  
  
"Should've gotten the convertible," Mokuba amended, slightly sad. I shrugged.  
  
"Lime green's good," I answered, patting the steering wheel, then turned to look back to my other passenger.  
  
Ryou was glued to my seat.  
  
I laughed and turned back, then saw something that made me cuss.  
  
A familiar noise split the air, and I mournfully slowed to almost a halt. Pulled over slowly.  
  
And hoped, against all odds, that the cop who had just pulled me over believed in ghosts. 


	18. Can We Keep Her?

Flame: Ok, I know I brought this on myself, but not everyone can be in this story. Only two. Three, Shikoti included. Sorry.  
  
Alana- Sheez, I have a bunch of brave readers here. All right, here's the deal. Send me an e-mail telling me everything about your char, and I'll do my best to get you in. I may have to e-mail you several times, just because my brain takes lengthy trips to la-la-land. E-mail me at drgongrl@swbell.net and I'll try to get you in. . .  
  
BUT THAT'S IT! NO MORE PEOPLE!  
  
Disclaimer: ::Sign is back, with yet another addition:: Battosei belongs to VampireBat  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
"I knew this would happen, I just KNEW this would happen," Ryou muttered as the cop pulled in behind us.  
  
"Shay, what do we do?" Mokuba asked, half panicked.  
  
I shrugged helplessly.  
  
"Yami says you should have just kept going," Ryou supplied, startling me.  
  
I knew Bakura would figure out where his hikari was sooner or later, but the advice had caught me off-guard.  
  
"Let me guess," I answered. "This is the same Yami who also says, if the cop kept following us, we should pull over and kill him, then go on and forget it ever happened."  
  
After a few moments' silence, Ryou nodded. "Pretty much," he admitted.  
  
"Don't think so." I looked at the rear-view mirror. The cop was getting closer. With a sigh, I reached over to open my door.  
  
Before I could even touch the handle, Mokuba's door sprung open and the kid was charging around Suv's nose to challenge the officer.  
  
With another curse, I lunged through the door and after him.  
  
"Hey, kid. Who're you?" the police officer asked. I stopped behind Mokuba, who glanced back at me.  
  
"Mokuba Kaiba," he answered proudly. Once again, the chibi-King-Mokuba picture floated into my mind, and it was a struggle to hide my laughter.  
  
The cop studied him closely for a minute, then backed off a step or two.  
  
"Who's driving?" he asked, warily now. Apparently, the police don't want dear big brother Seto getting mad.  
  
"A hired driver," Mokuba answered, not once dropping the superior tone. "My brother's late for a very big meeting, and you're holding us up."  
  
The first of Domino City's commandments, I decided. Never make Seto Kaiba late for a meeting.  
  
The cop offered a quick apology, but he was already beating it back to his car. I grinned and floated back to my door.  
  
"What did you do?" Ryou asked as he watched the cop drive past. Mokuba swung himself into his seat and slammed his door.  
  
"Told him he was making Seto late for a meeting."  
  
Somehow, that was hilarious to me. I burst out laughing.  
  
The two living people exchanged odd looks. I forced myself to get a grip on reality and pulled back onto the highway.  
  
From then on, I kept at least within view of the speed limit, in case we came across another ticket-happy cop.  
  
Finding the mansion again was another hour and a half long adventure. Mokuba, it seemed, only knew the intercity roads. Highways leading to other parts of the country weren't on his memorized-road list.  
  
By the time I pulled into the garage, the sun was setting and all three of us knew we where basically in trouble.  
  
I handed the keys to Mokuba and pushed the door open as slowly and noiselessly as possible. Ryou walked in first, since we'd decided that he was the one Kaiba was least likely to kill, or at least seriously hurt.  
  
Mokuba and I had a brief, silent argument about who was going in next. Being a ghost and unable to be shoved around, I won.  
  
Sounds came from the kitchen. Talking, a faucet running. Kaiba said something. Didn't sound happy.  
  
At least he wasn't trying to hunt us down.  
  
We were halfway across the living room- halfway to safety- when Mokuba dropped the keys.  
  
It probably wouldn't have been so bad if I hadn't cussed.  
Silence immediately descended in the kitchen, and all three of us froze.  
  
Half a second later, the sound of a chair being knocked over sent me running.  
  
Seto Kaiba can move very, very quickly when he wants to.  
  
I dove through Mokuba as he lunged at me.  
  
"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN???!!!"  
  
Okay, he's pissed. I guess I would be too, but I wasn't going to try to slow down and reason with him.  
  
I ducked behind Ryou, using my ability to go through him. Kaiba looked tempted to try following, but Bakura sent him a really poisonous look.  
  
Not to surprising, Kaiba opted to go around.  
  
What ensued was a five-minute game of ring-around-the-Mokuba-and-Ryou. Not even Yami could stop Kaiba from chasing me, and had stopped trying very early on.  
  
Kaiba finally, almost, caught up with me by pushing Mokuba out of the way. Out of people to hide behind, I aimed for the living room doorway.  
  
Wonder of all wonders, there was another person ready to be made into a living barrier.  
  
I used her as a shield, prepared to move again.  
  
After about thirty seconds, when Kaiba still hadn't come after me, I peeked up to see who I had hidden behind.  
  
"YAAH!" I jumped away, no mere feat for a floating ghost, then immediately started spouting apologies.  
  
"I'm sorry, I didn't stop to see who you were, I didn't mean to do that, I shouldn't have done that, I really didn't mean to go through you, I didn't mean to. . ." she was staring at me with startled, silver eyes. I tried again.  
  
"Please don't freak out," I added flatly.  
  
She stared at me for a few moments longer, then turned to face Kaiba. I got the general impression that I was in for a real treat.  
  
"Why," she began, "are you chasing him?" Apparently, she just walked in when I'd noticed her, or she would have been a bit more interested in other things. Like how I was going through Ryou and Mokuba.  
  
"He-" Kaiba began.  
  
"He what?" she snapped. "He didn't hurt Mokuba. He hasn't done anything to you. YOU'RE just being as rude as always. He walks through the door, you try to kill him. Although, considering that this is you we're talking about, I'm not too surprised. You don't care for people, so I guess you have a reason, at least in YOUR psychotic, tiny little brain."  
  
I was vaguely aware of my jaw hitting the floor as I stared at her.  
  
Nobody, and I mean NOBODY, calls Seto Kaiba psychotic.  
  
She nodded in smug triumph at the amazed silence that greeted her opinion, then turned to face me.  
  
"I'm Battosei."  
  
I'm going to be hiding under the couch whenever I see her.  
  
Actually, after I managed to close my mouth, I had to admit that she was ok. Not everyone had to nerve to interrupt Kaiba.  
  
"Hi, uh, Battosei, I'm, uh, Shay. It's nice to meet you, I think."  
  
She smiled at me, then turned to face Kaiba.  
  
"I'm going to move my stuff into my room now." She informed us, then marched off.  
  
"Who's she?" Mokuba asked.  
  
"She's Battosei. Weren't you listening?" I countered.  
  
"She's a new maid I hired," Kaiba growled, ignoring me.  
  
I stared after her for several long seconds, then turned back to face him.  
  
"Can we keep her?" 


	19. AN: Welcome to My Life

Flame: Ok, people, here's the deal.  
  
Dancer: Whoa, she's willing to make a deal instead of just bashing heads in with the emsod (extendable music stand of doom. I'm in orchestra and they call me the Goddess of Destruction for a very good reason).  
  
Flame: That's right, so listen up. Being grounded sucks. I'm pretty sure you've learned this once before in your life, unless you're perfect. I'm not. My mother nearly had a heart attack when she realized how close the end of the school year was, and she started yelling about wanting all my grades to be at least B's. She has high hopes for me.  
  
Dancer: Hah. Hah hah. Hah hah help me.  
  
Flame: Uh-huh. Anyway. . . I'm not allowed on the puter. I've been 'grounded' since mid-April, but it's just now that the parental unit decided to act. She has banned me from computers. The only time I get now is third hour, computer apps. Even then, if the teacher sees me online, it's an automatic referral. . .  
  
Dancer: ::mutters something extremely inappropriate under her breath::  
  
Flame: I'm typing this in computer apps now. I'll upload it when I get home. I'm just saying it could be a while before I update again.  
  
Dancer: School gets out in three weeks, I have to study for my finals or I'll never pass chemistry.  
  
Flame: Don't take chemistry as a sophomore, or as first hour. I can't remember one week were I went the entire week without falling asleep at all.  
  
I'm almost done with Ch. 19 (with more of Battosei picking at Kaiba and Shay worshiping the ground she walks on. . . ), so I shouldn't have a problem getting it up tomorrow.  
  
Last but not least, I live in eastern Kansas, and in case you haven't heard the news, we're having problems with weather getting out of hand. . . I spent five minutes today watching the clouds right over me form tornadoes. Fun and cool, but tornadoes do serious damage to us poor flat-land people. I'm not scared for me, but my puter may go bye-bye. It's extremely unlikely, but still, just FYI.  
  
Thank you for putting up with us and reading this story! If someone told me two weeks ago I'd be getting over three reviews for this story, I'd have laughed at them.  
  
TY for one and all!  
  
Flame Out 


	20. Being Alive Must Really Suck

Dancer: Must study, must study, must study, must study, must study---  
  
Flame: Must kill, must kill, must kill, must kill, must kill.  
  
Dancer: Waddya mean, must kill? You don't have finals!  
  
Flame: Maybe not, but yours are in three weeks! You DO realize that I've gotten six hours of sleep total the last three nights because of you and your mantras!  
  
Dancer: Mantra? Ack! I'm positive that was a vocab word, but I can't remember it! Must study, must study!  
  
Flame: . . . I am going to kill you if I don't get more than four hours of sleep tonight.  
  
Dancer: No, you won't, you'll just duct tape my mouth shut and tranquilize me like last time.  
  
Flame: ::pulls out her tranq gun and a roll of duct tape:: Now that you suggested it. . .  
  
Dancer: Aahhhh!!!!! Help me!!!!!  
  
Disclaimer: ::Sign has been ripped up, flung around, and thrown halfway across the country due to recent tornadoes in the area. Still, it is well remembered.::  
  
Flame: RIGHT??!!  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Ya know," I said when no one answered, "Someone is gonna have to tell her that I'm a ghost."  
  
Again, I went ignored. I was beginning to wonder if ignoring me was a skill people were born with or if it rubbed off on them after they'd spent too much in Kaiba's presence.  
  
Of course, the fact that a girl after my own heart had just called Kaiba a psycho had nothing to do with it.  
  
Scratch that. She'd said he had a reason to hate and disrespect people (and chase people around and through his little brother and Ryou) only in his psychotic brain.  
  
Wow. If I had enough nerve to laugh at him, then that's probably what I would have done.  
  
The new maid had enough courage to insult Seto Kaiba, while the immortal and invincible ghost hadn't managed to find enough yet to laugh and agree with her.  
  
There is something kinda backward about this situation.  
  
"Battosei, huh?" Mokuba asked finally. Kaiba forced himself to nod.  
  
"I'm thinking about getting rid of-"  
  
"NO!!!" Both Mokuba and I yelled it at the same time.  
  
Kaiba started in surprise, then looked at Mokuba. This blatant refusal to acknowledge my existence finally did it.  
  
"What is this, Ignore Shay Day? I'm talkin' to you people, but it's like you can't even see me! Am I just some sorta shitty T.V. you turn off when the reception's bad?!"  
  
"I'm not ignoring you," Bakura said evenly. The look he gave provoked my next statement.  
  
"Ok, maybe I DON'T want to be seen. By you. But what about the rest of you people?!"  
  
Kaiba smirked and looked back at me.  
  
"Shay has a good idea," he said. His grin grew, and I was beginning to feel like a bird trapped in a cage with the cat staring through the bars at me.  
  
"I do?"  
  
"Yes." Now I was really getting worried. Kaiba was full-out smiling. I don't like it when he smiles, for several reasons.  
  
"Someone has to tell her that Shay is a ghost," he continued. I watched him as he started to prowl around the room, getting closer to me each pass.  
  
Then it became clear to me.  
  
"HELL no!!" I yelled, jumping away from him. I wasn't fast enough.  
  
Kaiba caught me by the collar, then started towards the stairs, dragging me.  
  
"How does he do this?" I yelled at Yami, who shrugged helplessly.  
  
He stopped at a closed door, no new thing in this house, and spoke in an even voice.  
  
"If they won't let me hurt you," he said, "then I'll just have to go for the next best thing."  
  
Then, without warning, he shoved me into the room and left me to explain to Battosei how, precisely, I had come through the closed door.  
  
She looked up at me in surprise. A suitcase was sitting on the bed, open and half-empty.  
  
"I. . . . uh. . . . hi," I managed lamely.  
  
"I didn't hear the door open," she said, sounding confused. Here goes nothing.  
  
"Um. . . . Kaiba has somethin' to say to you," I answered with a sudden flash of inspiration.  
  
"About time. I was wondering how long it would take him to shut his big mouth and come up with a response."  
  
"Ah, yes, well, see, the thing is. . . . he hasn't yet, I don't think. He just wants to tell you somethin'."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I dunno, he just told me to come an' get you,"  
  
With an irritated sigh, she slammed the suitcase shut and stormed over to the door. I listened as she went downstairs and snapped at Kaiba about something.  
  
I closed the door and got ready to leave very quickly, as Kaiba's anger would probably force me to do.  
  
Living with Seto Kaiba, whether you're alive or dead, is hell. 


	21. It's Pale Rose

Flame: I'm losing my inspiration with this story, so unless I get another brilliant flash of an idea, then. . . .  
  
Dancer: FINALS ARE NEXT WEEK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!  
  
Flame: Yeah, lovely. Anyway, us Kansans are living under a 24-7 tornado watch, so my updates are going to be slow.  
  
Dancer: Forget tornadoes, finals are almost here!  
  
Flame: Nice to know you have your priorities straight. . . . ~.^  
  
Never fear, for I won't quit writing this story. I'm fond of breathing, and my friend would make that particular hobby very hard if I discontinued this.  
  
Disclaimer: What if . . . . I owned YuGiOh? ::sigh:: Yet another dream I will never achieve. Battosei belongs to herself, too. I think. She might belong to the people who run the insane asylum (no offense meant, VB).  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
It was quiet for a long time downstairs. I was getting uncomfortable, thinking that maybe Kaiba was moving slowly and quietly up the stairs so I wouldn't hear him.  
  
Have you ever been followed by someone who's so quiet, you don't ever realize they're there, but you know somehow in the back of your mind that you're being hunted? You keep trying to tell yourself that it's just paranoia, but you can't convince yourself.  
  
Now you know how I felt.  
  
Living with Seto Kaiba is bad for many reasons- he affects blood pressure AND stress levels in one hit.  
  
Considering that that's coming from a ghost, you get the basic idea of why 'home is where the heart is' does not apply here.  
  
I looked around the room for a lack of better things to do. I don't know if the décor came with the room or if Battosei is really messed up. Either was a possibility.  
  
Pink. I was drowning in pink.  
  
Pink, thick carpet leading to the pale pink walls. Pink, frilly curtains over a pink-framed window. Thick, pink covers on the bed and pink pillow cases.  
  
One of the first things I saw were several cans of paint.  
  
I have a feeling that white was a compromise Kaiba and Battosei had reached.  
  
Maybe that's why Battosei is in the pink room, I mused. Kaiba wants the least possible to do with her, and the risk of suffocation was a decent excuse to avoid her room- and her- at all costs.  
  
If someone called me psychotic, I sure wouldn't want to have much to do with them.  
  
I sat down on the bed, fully touchable. Then I got back up and looked down at the pillows. Grabbed one.  
  
Feathers. Real feathers. I could feel it moving under my fingers.  
  
Oh yes, nice and soft, but have you ever tried to sleep on one of those goose-feather pillows? Mokuba and Kaiba don't have them- they have regular cotton pillows. Your head literally sinks into the down, and it's hard to breathe, never mind get up or get comfortable.  
  
Maybe Kaiba's new mission in life is to make Battosei's as difficult as humanely possible.  
  
I mean, he IS human, right?  
  
Wait.  
  
Several down pillows. Thick blankets. Depressed and bored ghost.  
  
"WILL YOU CUT THAT OUT???!!!"  
  
Kaiba. Naturally. Only he doesn't have a problem with yelling through the entire house, completely ignoring his guests, simply to get at me.  
  
Then again, I'd been floating right up to the ceiling, then dropping onto the bed, making the entire floor shake. Maybe there's a reasoning to his mentality.  
  
I laughed and dropped one more time, for spite's sake, then stayed where I landed. Kaiba can be pissed off only so many times per day.  
  
I would think, with two Yami's, Yugi, and Battosei hanging around, that he's had enough to last him the rest of the month.  
  
The door creaked open, and I looked at my visitor.  
  
Battosei stared at me with eyes so silver, they couldn't possibly be natural. I was about to ask when she screamed.  
  
This, I hadn't been expecting.  
  
I yelled back, then fell through the bed on accident.  
  
"Ba-tt-os-ei!!!!!" she yelled, then turned and ran. I blinked in utter confusion.  
  
Run that scene by me one more time, the first time was gone too quickly for me to understand.  
  
After a conscious effort, I pulled myself out of the bed and looked into the hallway.  
  
My turn to panic.  
  
"THERE'S TWO OF HER??!!"  
  
One Battosei vanished, and the other turned to face me. She put her finger to her lips in the classic 'silence' style.  
  
Oh, yeah. The new maid has another one of herself running around, and she wants me to keep quiet about it.  
  
"Just tell me she wasn't a Yami. Tell me I was seeing things." I pleaded. Odd, I know, but so far, each Yami I had met in turn was worst than the last. Yugi had also mentioned something about an Egyptian named Malik, and how his yami had possessed one of Yugi's friends and tried to kill Yugi.  
  
I think I'll keep my distance from Malik, thank you.  
  
Battosei gave me a strange look, then shook her head.  
  
"What's a yami?"  
  
Oops. Well, that answers that.  
  
"Ahhh. . . . go ask Yugi," I answered. Brilliant, Shay. Yet another reason to get the people downstairs mad at you.  
  
I watched her turn around just fine. Nothing special then.  
  
The second her back was completely to me, a wave of blackness closed around my eyes, and everything ceased to be. 


	22. Sweet Dreams

Flame: Not much to say here, just review please!  
  
Dancer: I ONLY HAVE ONE WEEK OF SCHOOL LEFT!!!!! FINALS ARE HERE!!!!!  
  
Flame: What the hell is wrong with those weather people anyways. . . no cloud in sight, yet we still are under a tornado watch.  
  
BTW, . . . means a dream of some sort  
  
Disclaimer:  
  
Dancer: My lawyer suggested I do these every time. ::Hands her "lawyer", who is actually a monkey, a banana.::  
  
Flame: Ah, the fun you can have with someone whose brain is finals-dead. Don't own YGO or Battosei.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
The rain was coming down in sheets. Lightning split the black clouds, and thunder growled.  
  
I don't know where I am. I don't know how I got here. I know nothing.  
  
I look down slowly, and try to yell. Make noise. Anything.  
  
Nothing happens. I can't. . . . I just can't.  
  
A long trail of blood flows past me, trickling slowly into the gutter.  
  
I start walking slowly, not knowing what else to do. I'm on a playground. The monkey bars leap out of the darkness at me. They swayed like grass in a strong wind.  
  
A tall slide is lit up briefly, very briefly, by a flash of lightning. It twists like a tornado. Goes straight up for about thirty feet. Big slide.  
  
Still, the blood is coming from beyond the slide, and I have to follow it.  
  
A row of swings faded into visibility. The chains on the swings are all twisted up. The swings themselves are rocking every which way, thrashing violently like an animal fighting for its life.  
  
After the swings, a tree looms up. The rain is really coming down now, punching straight through the leaves and soaking me even when I'm under the tree. The blood has gathered here, in the depression where they put the mud and planted the tree.  
  
The world suddenly explodes into blinding lights and colors. A wave of dizziness claims me, and I reeled away. Leaning against the tree, I gasp at the thick air.  
  
It's warm. Very warm. It feels like I'm wrapped up in a thick, wooly blanket. I'm suffocating.  
  
Lightning again, and I see the blood. It's calling my name. It's telling me to follow. To find out what. . . .  
  
I push away from the springy bark and stagger a few steps forward. I feel drunk. Wasted. Completely plastered. I'm beyond gone, I'm one drink away from death.  
  
Except I'm already dead. Right?  
  
I have to stop thinking about it. Thinking hurts too much. I simply exist. I simply am.  
  
Or do I?  
  
I start out again. Off in the distance, there's some dome made out of metal bars. I head towards that.  
  
Beyond the dome is a parking lot, well-hidden behind the building- School? Church? Lord knows.  
  
I step onto the asphalt and take another steadying breath. Then another step.  
  
I'm not sure what I expect to find.  
  
The blood is thick now, almost a foot-wide path running down the grooves carved by water from endless rains. The blood doesn't mix with the water. The water follows along the edges, but it doesn't mix.  
  
There's a street light not far off, and someone's standing there. He's standing over something that looks like it could be a person lying on the ground.  
  
I stagger over to the person, fall to my knees.  
  
It's my blood that doesn't mix with water. It's me who's lying on the ground, dead.  
  
I stare at myself, but somehow, I can't see the body. All I see is a fuzzy blur of colors, despite the fact that the asphalt around me is in perfect focus. It's as if I can't see myself.  
  
A hand reaches down and picks up something. Pulls away. I follow the hand up to its owner.  
  
Like the body, I can't see this person. It's all fuzzy. But both hands are clear. I can see large, bloody dagger in the other hand. And what he took from me.  
  
It's a necklace. A blood-red stone the shape of an oval with pointed tips. Real ruby, maybe. Who knows. There's a tiny slit of black stone in the middle. Onyx, I think.  
  
"A dragon's eye," the man mutters. He has no voice. I can't really describe it. His words just sort of appeared in my mind, as if I had heard them, but he hasn't said a word.  
  
Someone's saying my name. Sounds worried. I can't escape. The man drops the dagger, then turns and walks off, still looking at the necklace. My name again. I can't escape, I can't focus, I can't--------------  
  
"Shay! Wake up, dammit!"  
  
"I'm awake, I'm up! Now lemme 'lone!"  
  
I instinctively reached out to shove my harasser away. They've got me by the front of my shirt, but my hands go straight through.  
  
Wait. Only one person can touch me.  
  
I sat upright all the sudden and found myself about two millimeters away from Kaiba.  
  
We stared at each other for a heartbeat before we both jump away at the same time. Kaiba looked like he was trying to hide his relief.  
  
Me, I felt like I'd been about two millimeters away from kissing a rattlesnake.  
  
"What happened?" he snapped. He still looked upset, but apparently, my waking up had calmed him down a little bit.  
  
"How the hell should I know?" I countered angrily. Remembered the dream.  
  
Now, everything makes sense.  
  
Someone killed me.  
  
And they are going to regret it. 


	23. Revenge

Flame: Don't you have studying to do?  
  
Dancer: Ack!! That's right! ::runs off and grabs her chemistry book:: Must study, must study, must study.  
  
Flame: Yeah. That's enough of her. This chapter has more interaction between Kaiba and Shay than all the others so far. . . . Gah!!! Why is it so damn fun to antagonize poor Seto???!!!  
  
Shay: ::suddenly runs in from some obscure place:: They love me! They really love me!  
  
Flame: Get out of here, you bum! ::pushes Shay aside::  
  
Alana: Thanks for the info, now just how to work you in. . . . ::stares off into space for a few minutes, then suddenly sits up:: No idea, but I'll figure something out. Give me a few chapters, but I'll do my best.  
  
Disclaimer: I hate these. I really do. If I owned YGO, I wouldn't have to do this. ::VB runs in and thwaps Flame over the head.::  
  
Scratch that. Battosei belongs to herself.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Kaiba had my opinion.  
  
I managed to tell him alone, and the look in his eyes made me wish I was still dreaming.  
  
Apparently, it had only been a few seconds since Battosei had left when they'd found me. When I had remained in my 'trance', Kaiba felt that more desperate measures were in order.  
  
"Someone killed you," he mused, staring at a wall. I looked at him, then the wall.  
  
Blank. He's just staring off into space.  
  
"You couldn't see his face?" he asked after a few seconds.  
  
"Nope."  
  
"Then how do you know it was a man?"  
  
Good question. I opened my mouth to respond, but that was about how far I got.  
  
I've said it before, I'll say it again. Seto Kaiba is too damn smart for his own good.  
  
"It was an assumption," I answered finally.  
  
"Fine. We'll leave that for now. What about the necklace?"  
  
"What about it?"  
  
"Kaiba!!!!"  
  
Both of us blinked and looked at the irritated maid who was storming towards us.  
  
Practically boiling over, Battosei stopped right in front of him and spun on her heel to face him.  
  
"Where is it???!!!"  
  
Kaiba gave her one of his I'm-being-really-evil-and-loving-it smiles.  
  
"Where is what?" He knew what and where 'it' was, I'll bet you anything. Battosei looked about ready to wring his neck.  
  
"My sword."  
  
Whoa. This hyperactive, psycho-happy chick also carries a sharp and pointed object around with her. I don't feel safe anymore.  
  
That, of course, didn't faze Kaiba in the least.  
  
"I know precisely where it is. Nobody else knows, so you might as well save your breath, because that's the way it's staying."  
  
Battosei glared at me, but I just shrugged. I was in agreement with Kaiba here- she didn't need a sword. A butter knife would suffice when it came to fatal weapons for her.  
  
She glanced between the two of us for a moment, then turned back to me.  
  
"You can go through walls and crap. Why don't you find it?"  
  
I opened my mouth to answer, but Kaiba laughed.  
  
"Shay has four laptops hidden so well, even HE can't find them," he snapped. "Don't ask him to find anything, he'll get hopelessly lost."  
  
"Hey," I protested, but he gave me a dark look.  
  
"And," he added with a pointed look at Battosei, "We were having a private conversation about something that does not concern you."  
  
Yeah, she won't be even slightly interested after that.  
  
"Bout what?"  
  
He ignored her, as if she didn't exist, and turned back to me.  
  
"The necklace," he said. Yeah, that was about where we left off.  
  
"What about it? For the second time."  
  
"What was special about it?"  
  
I pulled a deep-thought face and turned slowly. Kaiba was already mad at me- I don't think he'd ever even thought that I could die. Or fade out, or whatever it is I'll do when I go away.  
  
He really cares about me.  
  
That sudden revelation stunned me so much, I forgot to float and literally dropped like a stone through four floors.  
  
Well, that alone normally wouldn't have been so bad. Normally. This situation was, naturally for me, not normal.  
  
"Shit!" I jumped away from my landing place. Spat out a mixture of curses, threats, and apologies. Staggered towards the kitchen, all too happy to get out of that room.  
  
Then again, considering that I'd landed practically IN Yami's lap, I figured I had a reason to react like that.  
  
God, that was scary.  
  
I stopped in the kitchen, panting and trying to get the image out of my head. Yami too close. Yami way too close. There's only one person I've been closer to touching, and that's the only one who can touch me, of course.  
  
"Shikoti," I gasped. She was staring at me, a huge metal bowl in one hand. Popcorn, I think.  
  
"If I ever feel the need," I continued, then stopped to breath. Not that I need to, but it helps in these sort of panic-first places.  
  
"To get that close to Yami," I added.  
  
"Don't let you," she smiled. I got the general impression that she wouldn't mind getting that close to Yami.  
  
She's female. She can get as close to Yami as she wants. I'm not. I'm keeping my distance.  
  
"Hey Kaiba," Shikoti added. I glanced over my shoulder, then started when I found him standing there.  
  
"God damn, how do you move that quietly?" I demanded.  
  
He just smiled.  
  
Shikoti flashed me her smile again, then turned and walked out. Kaiba watched the doorway for several minutes, waiting for Battosei to show up and start asking about her sword again.  
  
Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Blessed silence.  
  
Someone did something they don't want Kaiba knowing about. Like the time I broke the TV screen. Mokuba and I had both gone silent. Kaiba still found out, and hadn't been happy.  
  
With Yugi, Yami, Ryou, Bakura, Mokuba, and Shikoti in there, and plenty of things to be broken, well. . . .  
  
Especially between the two Yami's. I've heard they get along about as well as I get along with them.  
  
Why Ryou and Yugi take their lives into their hands and force their darker halves under the same roof is a mystery to me. More so because I'm already here, and pretty territorial.  
  
Kaiba suddenly reached over and grabbed the front of my shirt, pulling me into the dining room.  
  
"The necklace," he repeated. Third time.  
  
I reached over and tapped on his head.  
  
"Somethin' up there busted up? Cause that's the third time you've said that. Yer turnin' into some broken record."  
  
He shoved my hand away, looking irritated. I decided to quit playing and give him the straightest answer I could.  
  
"Well, the killer just took it off a murdered person," I said. "That's all I know."  
  
Kaiba stared right at me for a few moments, then nodded.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because," he muttered, staring out the open door.  
  
"That necklace opens a door for me to find the killer. You'll know who killed you. And you can get revenge."  
  
That sounds good. That sounds very good.  
  
I'm looking forward to it. 


	24. Power

Dancer: ::is living up to her name with her weird, scary dances:: SCHOOL IS OUT!!!! WOO-HOO, WOO-HOO!!!  
  
Flame: -.-;;;;;;;;;;;  
  
Dancer: MY SLAVERY HAS ENDED!!!!!! I AM FREEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
Flame: -.-;;;;;;;;;  
  
Dancer: FREEDOM!!!! FREE! FREE! FREE! FR----WHACK!!!  
  
Flame: :holding emsod:: You no longer have a chem book to hit back with, baka.  
  
Dancer: ::laying on the ground:: ow. . . . but I'm. . . . free. . . . .  
  
Flame: And I have just entered slavery. . . three months with a pillow- eating, purple-rabbit-chasing psycho. That's how she signed everyone's yearbook.  
  
Anyways, cause I'm nice, I decided to update today and tomorrow if at all possible. The story's starting to pick up now, and it's kind of developing a plot.  
  
Last, but most certainly not least, I have a screaming opportunity for another story here. . . The mentioning about the Master leaves so many options. Read who- more rather what- he is and tell me what you think about a story focused on him. I'm a nutcase, I know.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own YGO. I do not own Battosei either. But I haven't given up on Kaiba yet. . . ::grabs a tranquilizer gun and prowls off, looking for Seto, who is quite wisely hiding::  
  
Dancer: We only own the Master. . . and he's so cute! ::huggles him::  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Question of the Week: Where the hell was I during those first six months of being dead?  
  
Answer: Who the hell knows?  
  
Not me. Not Yami, although I'm not really used to him not knowing the answer to something. Not Bakura, thank god. I'd really hate to have to ask him. Not Kaiba, who hates the thought but knows he can't help me. Not anybody in this universe.  
  
Well, there was one possibility. The Master of Death. Sounds cheerful, doesn't it? According to Yami, we don't want to have to deal with the Master. He's not a compassionate person who will do anything within his power to help someone. From the impression I got, if I never had to deal with him, the better off we'd all be.  
  
The Master is basically the Ancient Egyptian version of the Grim Reaper, only he has a lot more powers and wanders the earth like a human. He's not a nice person. He's more like Kaiba- a "Back off now before I kill you" kind of attitude.  
  
Anyways, the entire point behind all that was. . . .  
  
Who knows where I've been?  
  
After all was said and done, the guests left at close to midnight. They'd been trying to figure out my last six months with little success. Battosei also left, apparently so she could get the rest of her things and get ready to move into the mansion for a while.  
  
Also, I got the general impression that there was no way in hell she was sleeping in a pink room.  
  
Several hours after they left, when it was about three in the morning, I drifted up through the floor only to find Kaiba sitting in the darkened living room.  
  
I looked at the wall, then back at him. A light in the kitchen was on. Just enough light for me to see him, but not really enough light to know what he was doing. I moved a foot or so closer to him, then stopped.  
  
He was still staring at the wall. It took me several more seconds to realize that he was staring off into space. One hand toyed with a necklace he was always wearing.  
  
I waved a hand in front of his face. For a heartbeat, he glared at me, then shifted his gaze back to the wall.  
  
The wall is more fascinating than me. Ouch.  
  
"Hello? Anybody in there?"  
  
I took a big risk and tapped him on the head.  
  
About a millisecond later, I was peeling myself off the kitchen wall.  
  
"I'll take that as a yes," I grumbled.  
  
Kaiba appeared in the doorway.  
  
"Do not touch me."  
  
Well. And here I was thinking we might actually get along. Stupid me.  
  
My mind conjured up the image of his face when I'd finally woken up earlier that evening. He'd looked relieved, happy even. Grateful that I was still alive in my own sense.  
  
I know I shouldn't have reacted like I did, but a man with the power to rewrite history has yet to come into existence.  
  
Stunned, even hurt, and angry, I straightened and glared at him.  
  
"Well, sorry. Heaven forgive I actually be concerned about you!"  
  
I don't know how it happened. I don't know precisely what happened. All I know is what I saw:  
  
Kaiba's eyes went really wide, and he took a step away from me. At the same time, black lightning streaked in front of my eyes.  
  
Then, everything in the kitchen exploded.  
  
Shards of glass went flying everywhere. A rush of noise, almost like a dying animal, filled my ears, so I couldn't hear anything. The glass cracked immediately. Wood splintered after a few more seconds. In four seconds, the metal in the room was bending and warping and snapping like a piece of ice.  
  
The lights went on, filling the kitchen with a blinding amount of light, before all but a few light bulbs burst. Those remaining few flashed on and off, giving the place a haunted-house like feel.  
  
The tiles on the floor cracked into millions of pieces. Each individual piece jumped with the current of my anger. The ceiling groaned, and a corner collapsed, hitting the ground. The rest sagged dangerously. The windows, unable to support themselves, folded inward.  
  
All throughout this, Kaiba was reeling. He dropped to his knees almost immediately, both hands over his ears. His face twisted with pain as he slowly sunk lower and closer to the ground. Flying shards of glass and wood cut him up, leaving tiny streaks of red all over his clothes. One large chunk hit his shoulder, and he finally collapsed. Blood flowed freely from the wound.  
  
Mokuba suddenly appeared and, simple as that, everything returned to normal. Or, at least, normal if a bomb had suddenly gone off.  
  
I felt like someone who'd been on a roller coaster- building up slowly, then that one exhilarating rush, then jerked back out onto even ground. I felt disappointed, somehow.  
  
Then I realized what I'd done.  
  
Kaiba wasn't moving, even though Mokuba was tugging at his arm and begging him to wake up. His eyes were closed. Mokuba leaned over his motionless brother for a few moments, then sat up. He fought back tears as he stood.  
  
"He's all right," the boy sniffed. "He's still breathing."  
  
I was staring at the wall, scared. Scared of what I'd done. Scared of what I could have done. Scared of what I'd been trying to do.  
  
I had done my best to kill Seto Kaiba. And, if Mokuba hadn't appeared, I would have succeeded.  
  
Still trembling, I turned and ran. 


	25. Apology Not Accepted

Dancer: The first day of summer has officially begun. And I have nothing to do.  
  
Flame: I thought you ate pillows and chased purple rabbits. According to what you wrote in everyone's yearbook, that's your summer plans.  
  
Dancer: Well, I don't see any purple rabbits and all the pillows around here we use for sleeping.  
  
Flame: Sounds like your problem to me.  
  
IMPORTANT: I need opinions on another story. Remember the Master of Death, who I mentioned in the first couple of paragraphs of the last chapter? ::Waits patiently as all readers go back and reread that part.::  
  
Well, I have a story, a plot, and everything for him. It won't be first person; he's too reserved and emotionless to really work that way; and it probably won't be as humorous, since the entire nature of the story will be darker and gloomier. Should I write it?  
  
Let me rephrase that: I have to write it, to get it out of my system, but should I just let it sit in the puter or post it? No skin off my back, just more begging for reviews.  
  
The Master (he does have a name, but you'll just have to wait and see) isn't as cold and heartless as I made him out to be in this story. He's more rather just seriously misunderstood and hates himself. Not a healthy pastime, but. . . .  
  
Answer, please! Whoever answers first gets something intangible: a char in the next story, an extra long chapter for this one, faster updates, whatever. To an extent. AngelStarfire does not count. She already has enough influence.  
  
Ja ne!  
  
Disclaimer: ::Flame is still prowling around with the tranq gun::  
  
Dancer: We do not own YGO, or Battosei. We own Shay. Not Kaiba, no matter what Flame thinks she's doing.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
My world had shut down.  
  
For several days, I was unaware of the passing time. My life was centered around my thoughts.  
  
I had wanted to kill Seto Kaiba. I had tried to kill Seto Kaiba.  
  
I had almost succeeded in killing Seto Kaiba.  
  
I don't know precisely where I wound up. I just know that I had gotten out of there as quickly as I could. The colors still danced in my mind, lights flashing, streaks of black lightning and scarlet-----  
  
No. I am not thinking about it.  
  
And I am fooling nobody.  
  
The worst thing by far is how much I had enjoyed using that power. How much of a thrill I had gotten from seeing Kaiba finally, at long last, down on his knees and giving me the respect and fear I deserve. How I had loved to see his pain, to see him helpless against my immense power.  
  
How I had decided to kill him anyways.  
  
To me, Seto Kaiba is a challenge. And my instincts tell me to overcome and destroy all challenges.  
  
Well, I overpowered him. Whether he stayed down and beaten, or got back on his feet and came back for round two was another question entirely.  
  
One that I already know the answer to.  
  
Whatever Kaiba did in retaliation, it didn't really matter. All hopes of friendship, or at least peace between us, had gone up in smoke and black lightning.  
  
After a long time of silence from the rest of the house, I ventured out of my hiding spot. It was dark and silent, giving me the feeling that night had fallen.  
  
The first place I went was the kitchen.  
  
The room had been completely replaced. Walls, ceiling, floor, windows, all appliances, cupboard doors and countertops. The glasses and plates were new, the silverware had been replaced. Paint had been literally peeled off by my power and small chips of it were still lying around.  
  
The carpet in the living room had either magically changed colors, or had been replaced. So had the couch closest to the kitchen.  
  
I glanced in the dining room, almost scared of what I might see.  
  
No damage in there, at least.  
  
I sighed as I looked around. I could still sense an echo of what had happened. The power seemed to radiate off everything in waves.  
  
I wrapped my arms around my stomach and leaned against the wall, staring into the corner and feeling sorry for myself again.  
  
After a few minutes, I pushed away and wandered upstairs.  
  
The once-was pink room was now silver.  
  
I blinked and looked back in. Silver?  
  
Ok, Battosei. Whatever you say.  
  
I continued down the hallway.  
  
Mokuba's room was empty. So was Kaiba's.  
  
Had I scared them off?  
  
Feeling even guiltier than ever, I returned to the kitchen. The site of my first original attempt at leaving the house. The room where I discovered my weakness for water. Now, the room where Kaiba had almost died because of my temper.  
  
Amazing how everything seems to go in a circle.  
  
I floated in about two inches, then lunged backward as the shadows spoke.  
  
"About time you got your lazy ass out of that wall," a contempt-filled voice snapped coldly. "I knew you'd come back here. You just took your time."  
  
"Kaiba?" I fought to keep the relief out of my voice. He was all right. That took a whole lot of weight off my shoulders, although why I would be happy to know Seto Kaiba was alive was beyond me. After all, all he'd ever done to me is shove me around and insult me and make me feel like a moron. Why should I be worried about him when he was giving me so many reasons to hate him?  
  
I hate this asshole. I really do. I think.  
  
I hope.  
  
I shook my head and backed up another couple of inches. Confusion reigned.  
  
He was silent, busy just watching me, I suppose. When I stopped moving and glared back at where I thought he was, he spoke again.  
  
"Thanks for the power demonstration, but next time, I think I'll pass. I'm just glad Mokuba wasn't hurt." He paused, then continued. "How did you do that?"  
  
"Everyone wants to know, right?" I asked bitterly.  
  
"Yes. But only I will know unless you allow it otherwise."  
  
Seto Kaiba is being nice to me? ME?  
  
Get a tape recorder, folks, we have to have firm proof.  
  
"Why?" I demanded.  
  
"Because I have a right to know what the hell you did to me, and how."  
  
I stared at him. He took my meaning after several seconds and groaned.  
  
"Trust your gutter mind to take that to a bad place," he muttered. "All, Shay, try acting like a normal person for once and not some sex-obsessed maniac."  
  
"I am not sex-obsessed," I muttered. Not going to deny the maniac part. Not sure I'd be right if I did.  
  
"And you're not a normal person, so just answer the question."  
  
"I don't know how I did it. I don't even know what I did. How about you tell me what happened?"  
  
He sighed and finally stepped out of the shadows. A little pale, but that just may be the lack of lights. Otherwise, he doesn't look like he got a ghost mad at him.  
  
Of course, with those damned trench coats he wears, it'd be hard to see any damage I'd done without getting way too personal.  
  
Kaiba walked past me, making a point of going around instead of through me. He wandered over to a couch and flipped on a lamp.  
  
"Your eyes went bright, blood red," he informed me as he sat down. In this lighting I could see him a little better. A few scratches here and there on his face, but they were mostly healed.  
  
"Some sort of black electricity surrounded you. Then," he gave me a small glare, "all hell broke loose."  
  
"Descriptive," I countered. "How about some detail?"  
  
"I don't really remember," he answered as he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the back of the couch. "I remember a high-pitched noise. Very high. I'm not sure if humans were intended to hear such a high pitch. Still, I heard it, and it hurt. I couldn't focus, couldn't think, couldn't even stand up."  
  
High-pitched noise? What I had heard sounded a lot like a train rushing by. Maybe my hearing is less sensitive to such high notes, or maybe the noise was my magical defense against the noise that had taken Kaiba out so effortlessly.  
  
"It stopped after a second or two," he said, interrupting my thoughts. "When it did, everything else started to explode. Whenever a bolt of your lightning touched it, it would break. The glass had already been shattered by the noise. After the wall got hit a few times, the ceiling started to give in. I couldn't get up; if I tried, the noise would start again."  
  
He shrugged, no simple chore when one shoulder was practically dissected by a large chunk of wood.  
  
"Then, I saw a piece of what had once been the dining room table come flying in, and the next thing I knew, I was lying in bed and it was early afternoon." He stressed the 'had once been'.  
  
Oh well. The new dining room table looks exactly like the old one did before it was Shay-ized.  
  
He gestured to me, basically meaning that it was my turn. I took a deep breath and forced myself to relive the incident without the bloodlust.  
  
"I just got mad," I admitted with a shrug. Why I was mad was of no consequence now. "All the sudden, you started backing up, and black lightning started appearing."  
  
"What did you hear?"  
  
"A rush. Like when a train goes past. Only it didn't stop. You started to collapse, and the room started to fall apart. Then everything else you saw. Right after you were knocked out, Mokuba came in, and everything just. . . . stopped."  
  
He looked at me, one eyebrow high. "It just stopped?"  
  
I nodded.  
  
"I think seeing him might have calmed me down, and without anger, I can't use those powers. Anyway, he went right to you, and when he said you were all right, I left."  
  
Nothing was said for several long minutes. He sat forward, resting his chin in his hand and his elbow on his knee. The other hand drummed a tempo on the arm of the couch.  
  
We're back to thinking.  
  
"We haven't been able to find you for three days," he said. "Mokuba was getting really worried."  
  
His eyes slid over to meet mine.  
  
"You know why I waited," I challenged. He nodded slightly.  
  
"I'm sorry," I muttered after a while. He shrugged again. This time I saw the tiny flicker of pain cross his face.  
  
"No need to be sorry."  
  
"If I want to, I'm gonna," I snapped. Kaiba sat up and snapped back just as sharply.  
  
"If you want to," he growled. "But if I want to, I can shut you up permanently. I was the High Priest back in Ancient Egypt, and what I say, goes."  
  
Well. That explains a lot.  
  
"So? Back in Ancient Egypt, Yami was a Pharaoh. Now he's got a room that's about the size of a baseball and all the finery $3.50 can buy you," I snarled. Kaiba sneered.  
  
"You're in Japan, Shay. We use yen."  
  
"You're missing the point." I shot back.  
  
"And the point is that that was then, this is now, right?"  
  
"Precisely."  
  
"Fine. If this is now, and I'm just the CEO of Kaiba Corp.-"  
  
"JUST the CEO of Kaiba Corp.???!!!"  
  
"And the priests back then were used to dealing with spirits on a daily basis-"  
  
"Well, there's three so far,"  
  
"Then why is it that I'm the only one who can touch you?"  
  
Utter silence.  
  
"Thought so," he muttered.  
  
Unable to come up with a response to that, I tried for something else.  
  
"How do you know you were the High Priestess?"  
  
He gave me a really poisonous look.  
  
"I mean Priest."  
  
"Bakura told me," he answered, apparently not quite willing to forgive the priestess jab. "He believes that it's the reason why I can touch you, and why I survived your little tantrum."  
  
Ouch. Ok, maybe I deserved it, but he made me sound like a two-year-old.  
  
"You survived because your little brother is a light sleeper," I countered.  
  
"Normally he's not."  
  
Here we go again.  
  
We argued around in circles, jumping from subject to subject for about two hours, before the one and only thing that could shut us up happened.  
  
Mokuba appeared at the bottom of the stairs, grabbed a headset and CD player off the table, and pointedly dropped a roll of duct tape onto the couch next to Kaiba. We both watched him march back upstairs.  
  
"I think we're getting a bit loud." Kaiba picked up the duct tape and showed it to me.  
  
There was a picture of someone with their mouth duct taped shut drawn onto it.  
  
With that humorous, albeit not-so-subtle, warning, we decided to pick up the argument in the morning.  
  
Feeling considerably better about the whole destroy-the-kitchen incident, I dropped to the basement to wait out the rest of the night. 


	26. Oops

Flame: AAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
Dancer: O.O  
  
Flame: Why is no one answering?????!!!!!  
  
Dancer: O.O  
  
Flame: Why? Why? Why? Why? ::starts hitting her head against the wall::  
  
Dancer: O.O  
  
Flame: ::looks at Dancer:: You need sunglasses or somethin'? Quit staring! ::chases a very hyper Dancer with emsod::  
  
Please! I beg of you! Tell me what you think of that story. . . . please!!!!! ::puppy dog eyes::  
  
Ya know what? I'll remind you again at the end of the chapter.  
  
Dancer: O.O  
  
Flame: Last chapter was long, ne? With any luck this one will be too. . . .  
  
Disclaimer: ::Dancer and Flame are fighting over the tranq gun::  
  
Dancer: No, Flame! You won't get to own Kaiba just because you hunted him down! We own nothing to do with YGO. Only Shay. So leggo!!!!  
  
Flame: No!!!!!! Kaiba!!!!!!! I'M COMING!!!!!!!!!  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
The morning was about as dull as dull gets.  
  
Don't get me wrong- Kaiba and I had our fair share of arguments. Mokuba was getting extremely annoyed and was about two seconds away from throwing his cereal at us.  
  
Still, after they both left for school, boredom reigned.  
  
I stayed in the redone kitchen until I had it memorized. Then, back to having nothing to do, I wandered.  
  
As of yet, I had heard nothing about Battosei or her sword or anything. I'd been too busy hiding in the wall. She was nowhere in sight, but I did find something of interest.  
  
Hidden in the basement, between two crates, was her sword. Taped to it was a piece of paper that listed all the horrible things that would be done to me if I touched it.  
  
Kaiba's smart. He knew only I would trip over it in my daily wanderings.  
  
I tried to pick it up, but things heavier than five pounds seemed beyond my ability. I considered telling Battosei where it was, then disregarded the notion.  
  
No, this was perfect for getting back at Kaiba. I rarely, if ever, won one of the multitudes of arguments we had.  
  
Keeping its location in mind, I started to wander again.  
  
Despite its size and impressive array of technology, this house is fascinating for only so long.  
  
I found myself in Battosei's room. Silver is a weird color to paint a room. I felt like, if I had a reflection, then I could see it in the walls. It looked like a layer of aluminum foil had been taped to the wall, shiny side up.  
  
How do you sleep in a room like this? I'd get dizzy and probably fall out of the bed.  
  
I floated downstairs and found a stranger sprawled on the couch.  
  
No fear. Not from me. I'd just blown Kaiba and his kitchen halfway to hell. I wasn't worried much.  
  
"Hey," I said. Nothing. Not a twitch. I floated over and poked him. Still nothing.  
  
"Leave him alone," Kaiba ordered, startling me. I turned back to look at him.  
  
"And this is. . . . ?" I asked, pointing.  
  
Kaiba sneered.  
  
"Joey Wheeler. If you want to annoy him, call him Puppy."  
  
Ok. That's enough insight into the messed-up mind of Seto Kaiba. Did I really need to know Kaiba's pet names for his 'friends'? Judging from the look Kaiba had, only I could annoy him more than Joey did.  
  
"And why is he here?"  
  
Kaiba shrugged, then gestured into the kitchen.  
  
"Ask him."  
  
I glanced at the clock and almost cussed.  
  
It was four o'clock. Where had the day gone?  
  
I floated into the kitchen and found Yugi, who smiled upon seeing me.  
  
"Hello, Shay," he said brightly. How he could be so cheerful in this house was beyond me. "Nice to see you again."  
  
I nodded back, then glanced at Joey.  
  
"Uh. . . ."  
  
Yugi sighed.  
  
"He was falling asleep in class too. Just ignore him."  
  
Whoa. Where did the day go? Did I sleep it off?  
  
"No," Yami answered. Not at all surprised at his psychic-like abilities, I turned to face him.  
  
"Well, where have I been, then?"  
  
"Regaining your energy," he informed me. "When you destroyed the kitchen, you used a lot of your stored energy. You didn't have enough left to focus. The past three days, you have been wavering in and out of consciousness. It's natural to lose track of time under those conditions."  
  
I bet he just loves knowing everything compared to me.  
  
I blinked, suddenly realizing something.  
  
"Wait," I ordered, then stopped again.  
  
Realization hit. Hit like a bus and left a bad feeling in me.  
  
Kaiba hadn't told them. He hadn't told them that he'd been in the kitchen when I had given it my touch.  
  
He hadn't told them how close I had come to killing him.  
  
I turned around, all too aware of how easily Yami could read my face. Anger started boiling inside me again, and I went into the living room.  
  
Kaiba was focused on his laptop when I wandered over. He didn't glance at me, but judging by the look on his face, he knew why I was there.  
  
I pushed the laptop shut, forcing him to meet my gaze.  
  
"You didn't tell them."  
  
No question. No maybes.  
  
He hadn't told them.  
  
I didn't know whether he was just being stubborn as always and refusing to show weakness, or if he didn't want them to know the true extent of what I had done.  
  
"Just now figure that out?" he asked dryly.  
  
"I assumed you would. After all, you were cut up pretty bad, even if they were just little. And I know your shoulder is still hurting- I can see it whenever you move it." I glared at him.  
  
Kaiba glared back. I watched as anger slowly took over. He put the laptop to one side, shoved my hand away, and stood. He was only an inch or so taller than me, but now it seemed like a lot more than that.  
  
"This is my house," he said, his voice deceptively quiet and calm. "My kitchen. My injuries." His eyes flashed and he took a step closer to me. Now he couldn't move without going through me.  
  
"My ghost."  
  
His voice had reached an all-time high in softness. I swallowed and took about four steps back.  
  
"So long as it concerns me or anything that belongs to me, I chose who I tell what to."  
  
Great. So I belong to Seto Kaiba. However, my anger had fled before his. All I managed to do was glare back resentfully.  
  
I do NOT belong to him.  
  
Except for one thing that he must have thought of.  
  
It was awfully ironic that a spirit should land in the house of the only one who could control it.  
  
I refused to think about it. Instead, I turned away.  
  
"Well, they're MY powers," I shot back. "And I'm telling them. They deserve to know what I can do."  
  
Kaiba shook his head, then froze. He turned to face Joey.  
  
The blond was staring at us.  
  
Well. That left me no choice.  
  
Before I could so much as twitch, Kaiba moved. He seized Joey by the collar and lifted him right up off the couch.  
  
"Tell anyone," he spat furiously "about what we were just talking about, and you will rue the day you were born, mutt. Understand?"  
  
If it were me, I'd be a bit worried about that situation. Kaiba's a lot stronger than he appears, and he was about two inches away from having a death grip on Joey's throat.  
  
Joey, however, had known Kaiba for longer. He knew when to call the bluff.  
  
"Yer hurt?" he demanded. A grin formed.  
  
"No wonder ye've been actin' weird th' past three days."  
  
Sure enough, Kaiba didn't strangle him. However, he did angle that poisonous blue glare at me. I shook my head and held out my hands.  
  
"Don't look at me like that. I've got nothing to lose. You're the one who has to convince him to keep his mouth shut. You should have realized that he was awake before you opened your mouth."  
  
I really do have to remember that he can push me around just as easily as everybody else can't.  
  
In the time it took to blink, Joey was reunited with the ground and it was my throat Kaiba was suddenly at. Fortunately, as previously noted, I'm almost his height, definitely taller than Joey. Picking me up when I'm already standing can't be easy.  
  
"The same goes for you. Got it?"  
  
We both nodded. Kaiba was pissed. He backed up a few steps, glanced back and forth between us, then turned and marched upstairs.  
  
"Now what?" Joey asked. I grinned.  
  
"We find someone who knows about his injuries. Someone he won't threaten."  
  
We met gazes for a moment, then, silently agreeing, took off in search of Mokuba.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Flame: All right, people, repeat from last chapter:  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*IMPORTANT: I need opinions on another story. Remember the Master of Death, who I mentioned in the first couple of paragraphs of the last chapter? ::Waits patiently as all readers go back and reread that part.::  
  
Well, I have a story, a plot, and everything for him. It won't be first person; he's too reserved and emotionless to really work that way; and it probably won't be as humorous, since the entire nature of the story will be darker and gloomier. Should I write it?  
  
Let me rephrase that: I have to write it, to get it out of my system, but should I just let it sit in the puter or post it? No skin off my back, just more begging for reviews.  
  
The Master (he does have a name, but you'll just have to wait and see) isn't as cold and heartless as I made him out to be in this story. He's more rather just seriously misunderstood and hates himself. Not a healthy pastime, but. . . .  
  
Answer, please! Whoever answers first gets something intangible: a char in the next story, an extra long chapter for this one, faster updates, whatever. To an extent. AngelStarfire does not count. She already has enough influence.  
  
Ja ne!*~*~*~*~*~*~ 


	27. How to Get Bakura Mad

Flame: Yeah. . . . it's almost one in the morning. . . . this isn't gonna be a long chapter.  
  
Dancer: But, still, you demand, we give. And Starfire. . . remember the guinea pig.  
  
Flame: Don't ask. Very not good. And my grammar sucks right now, but hey.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own YGO. I do not own Battosei. I only own Shay. And Dancer took away my tranq gun, so I can't catch Kaiba. . . .  
  
Dancer: How many times have I told you? You can't just claim him as yours simply because you're weird.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Mokuba was in his room. Of course, being the intelligence-challenged people that Joey and I are, this is the last place we looked.  
  
Still, we found him.  
  
Comparatively, Yugi took the news of Kaiba's close encounter well. He just sighed and shook his head and muttered about how of course Kaiba wouldn't tell him. Yami, on the other hand, gave me an odd, unreadable look.  
  
"You knew I could do that, didn't you?" I asked. I may be slow, but at least I'm not as slow as I was before.  
  
He nodded slightly before answering.  
  
"Judging by the powers you were said to possess, I had not truly expected something so. . . . intense when this happened. I was under the impression that you were actually much weaker than you apparently are. Obviously, you don't use nearly the full extent of your power normally."  
  
"And what is normal?" I muttered. "Not that you'd know, being the Pharaoh and all."  
  
Bakura snorted in amusement. I glanced at him in surprise. Up until that moment, I hadn't realized that he was there.  
  
Yami sent both of us a dark look before answering my question.  
  
"Normal is to use most of your power in moderated amounts."  
  
"Which means what?"  
  
Yami sighed, then answered.  
  
"I mean that you are holding back on much of your abilities. It's not something you see every day. It must take a large amount of willpower."  
  
"Or a large amount of stupidity," Kaiba snarled as he walked in. "What he means, Shay, is that you can do much more normally than you are doing now, because you have the energy to spare."  
  
I hate to admit it, but Kaiba's right. I had no idea how much power I had, or precisely what I could do with it all.  
  
"Stupid little boy," Bakura muttered. When I turned to glare at him, he grinned.  
  
"Shay," Kaiba warned. "Replacing the kitchen once was good enough for me. Ignore him."  
  
Oh, I'll ignore him, all right. And I honestly tried. But whatever he muttered next, in ancient Egyptian I believe, was the last straw.  
  
And now:  
  
How to seriously annoy Bakura.  
  
Warning: Do not attempt this if you are not already dead, or Bakura will see to it that you wish you were.  
  
Bakura was leaning against the counter, drinking soda of some sort. Eyes closed.  
  
Perfect.  
  
I turned to face him.  
  
"Why don't you watch it, snowball?"  
  
Bakura literally spat out the soda in his mouth, then spun around to glare at me.  
  
"Snowball???!!!"  
  
"Yeah. You're Snowball, he's Spiky." I pointed towards Yami. "And you're in MY house, so I suggest you be a bit more conservative with your insults."  
  
Oh, he is gonna kill me.  
  
He was looking really murderous. Even Kaiba backed up to give him some room.  
  
"Ghost or not," he snarled, "keep this up and you'll be taking a one-way trip to the Shadow Realm."  
  
"Oh, really?" I backed up as well. "Big talk for someone who can't do diddly-shit right now."  
  
That did it. The fury leaping out of his eyes, he reached down to touch the Millennium Ring.  
  
And didn't find it.  
  
He looked down, then back up at me.  
  
By now, I was twirling the Ring around my finger by its rope.  
  
Yeah. He's gonna kill me.  
  
I'm not quite sure what he said, because it was in ancient Egyptian again, but I'm pretty much positive I couldn't say it even if I knew.  
  
He lunged at me, but I was faster, darting backward and out of his reach.  
  
Once I was in the living room, I rose to about twenty feet off the ground. He was right below me, looking like he was about ready to climb up the wall if need be.  
  
"Ya know, insulting me before you close your eyes isn't a good habit," I said as I continued to spin the Ring around.  
  
Playing keep-away with Bakura, with the Ring as the keep-away-from-Bakura item, is not a life-prolonging experience.  
  
In fact, it makes most lives painfully short.  
  
I couldn't stay up there forever, or he'd find a way to join me. Instead, I began looking for an alternative route.  
  
And hoping I survived the encounter. 


	28. Keep Away

Flame: Whoa. . . . over fifty reviews? Completely unheard of. All of you thank AngelStarfire. She read my first chapter before I posted it and made me put it up. If she hadn't, this story wouldn't exist.  
  
Dancer: Chocolates for all! Well, not really, but use your imagination.  
  
Flame: And yeah, I know Bakura would disappear if Shay took the Ring away from him, but let's just pretend, all right?  
  
Also, go check out my new story, Master of Death, or I might get depressed and won't write. . . .  
  
Dancer: Yeah, right.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own YGO. I only own Shay. Battosei belongs to herself, although I don't trust her to be by herself for more than two seconds. . . . she's almost as bad as Shay. . . . ^^;;;;;;  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
I really have to start planning out my actions before I get into a tight spot.  
  
The whole incident with the laptop a week and a half ago was still fresh in my mind. I was inclined to believe that Bakura wouldn't be pleased with me if I reminded myself the hard way.  
  
So, going through any solid surface was a no.  
  
Now what?  
  
I didn't know what the Shadow Realm was, but if Bakura was threatening me with it, I probably didn't want to find out.  
  
Brilliant deduction, Sherlock. Now, if we'd just thought about this BEFORE we took the Ring away from Bakura, then we wouldn't have a problem, now would we?  
  
Well, too late for that.  
  
I glanced around, looking for some way out.  
  
Yet another idea hit me and, hoping this one wasn't as idiotic as the last one, I went for it.  
  
Through the wall, most of the way, keeping the hand holding the Ring from going through, then dropped.  
  
Bakura charged through the kitchen door and lunged at me.  
  
And went straight through.  
  
Even as I pulled away from the wall and wandered into the dining room, I heard Kaiba's comment.  
  
"Maybe," he offered dryly, "it would help if you remembered that you'll only go through him, no matter how many times you try to hit him."  
  
There's two ways out of the dining room. One led to the kitchen, the other the hallway and the stairs. I headed towards the stairs.  
  
Bakura saw what I was doing about two seconds too late. He dove for me again, forgetting Kaiba's warning. This time, the corner of the table caught him in the stomach, and his eyes went wide as he gasped for breath.  
  
I couldn't help it. I just had to.  
  
"Ah, is de poor tomb wobber hurt?" I asked in baby-talk as I gave him a gentle pat on the head.  
  
"You. . . . are going. . . . to die," he growled. I laughed.  
  
"Get with it, Bakura. I'm already dead." Leaving him struggling to work air back into his lungs, I headed upstairs.  
  
I wandered down the hallway, glancing in each door as I went.  
  
Battosei's room.  
  
Bingo.  
  
I opened the door just enough to fit the Ring in, then shut it again.  
  
After several moments of silence, I heard Bakura approaching. He was muttering under his breath. Once again, it was a language I didn't know, so I just ignored it.  
  
A new idea formed, and I sat up, waiting.  
  
The door suddenly exploded open, and Bakura appeared.  
  
The furious look vanished immediately as he tried to comprehend what sort of haunted-house wannabe he'd just walked into.  
  
Using this to my advantage, I slid past, and mostly through, him and flew downstairs.  
  
I found Kaiba right away. He's kind of hard to miss.  
  
I dove at him, then retreated just as quickly, but this time with a reward.  
  
I darted over to the elevators, hitting the down button several times. As soon as it dinged, I floated through, pulled the Ring in after me, then hit the close door button a few hundred times.  
  
As the doors were closing, Bakura swung into view and ran straight into the doors.  
  
For the second time in as many minutes, the tomb robber reeled away, trying to breathe.  
  
I slid the card into the slot and hit B.  
  
A few minutes later, I drifted up through the floor.  
  
Bakura started to move, then stopped.  
  
Apparently, he'd finally understood what Kaiba had been trying to say earlier.  
  
"All right," he snarled. "We'll play your way. Pharaoh, send him to the Shadow Realm."  
  
Yami was sitting on the couch and watching in amusement. One eyebrow rose at this order.  
  
Before he could answer, I did.  
  
"The Ring is in the basement," I informed him. "There's only one way to get down there- using the card I stole from Kaiba. Without me, you'll never get down there, let alone find something as small as the Ring."  
  
Check and mate. Bakura knew it and he wasn't the least bit happy.  
  
He strode towards me, stopping two steps away, and glared at me.  
  
Kaiba got tired of this real quick and stepped through me to reach Bakura.  
  
How does he do that? He's the only one who can touch me, yet he can walk right through me whenever he wants to as well.  
  
"Back down, tomb robber, he's right and you know it," he warned.  
  
Bakura gave him an even darker look than he was giving me.  
  
"What's this, Priest?" he snarled. "Are you actually PROTECTING this miserable excuse for a spirit?"  
  
"No," Kaiba shot back. "I'm protecting my house and everyone in this room. If you get Shay mad, both are likely to be destroyed."  
  
Bakura's glare said it all- he basically didn't buy Kaiba's bullshit. Neither did I, but I wasn't going to call him on it.  
  
After a moment, the ancient Egyptian backed down. He muttered something under his breath, but he went ignored.  
  
Kaiba watched him for a second longer, then turned to face me.  
  
"Get the card and the Ring, Shay," he said softly. "He's not as mad as he's pretending to be, but if you're a pain, he will be soon. And I'm not standing up for you again. Got it?"  
  
I blinked and looked at him.  
  
Ok. More weirdness. Today's the day for random acts of immeasurable oddness from Seto Kaiba.  
  
I dropped downstairs, then stopped once I reached the basement.  
  
Considered heading back upstairs without the Ring.  
  
Nah. Like Kaiba said, Bakura was just acting mad. He was mad, somewhat, but he knows I'm scared of what he can do, and that works wonders on his temper.  
  
I grabbed the Ring and breathed for a moment, then headed towards the elevator.  
  
I only hope he's not mad enough for me to find out through first-hand experience what the Shadow Realm is. 


	29. Seto Kaiba in the Flesh

Flame: Guess what. . . . I'm at AngelStarFire's house, typing this up AGAIN because I'm an idiot aand forgot to upload before coming over.  
  
Dancer: No big surprise there. . . .  
  
Flame: Ha ha. Anyways, this chapter has more of Kaiba than ever before. I like it.  
  
Also, read and review my other fic or I won't be updating so fast. . . . I might get depressed and not write anymore.  
  
Dancer: Uh huh.  
  
Angel: *grins, having just witnessed the many spelling mistakes of her friend* ^^; LOL  
  
Yugi-Girl: I don't know. I haven't had the chance to see it yet. VB, is Battosei from Ruroni Kenshin? I honestly don't know.  
  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own YGO. Battosei belongs to herself. I own nothing. ::runs off and hides in a corner and cries.::  
  
Shay: ::gets pushed in by Dancer:: what the hell....? ::sees Flame:: Oh. Well, she owns me, but she's been pouting eversince she lost her chance to 'own' Seto Kaiba. Someone get her a head doctor.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
I gave the Ring to Bakura, then wisely beat it to another room.  
  
This time, if he decided to chase me, I was in serious trouble.  
  
Fortunately, he was too busy arguing with Kaiba about whether or not he got the right to blast me away to worry about anything else.  
  
"Where's Battosei?" I asked cuiously before I left. Kaiba scowled and shrugged.  
  
Right. She called him psycho, he doesn't like her.  
  
I found Kaiba's office after about twenty minutes of looking. Using a piece of printer paper and a pen I discovered in a drawer, I wrote a note for Battosei, telling her where to find her sword.  
  
Then I got Mokuba's basement card and put both on Battosei's bed.  
  
I came back downstairs in enough time to catch the goodbye's. Bakura shot me a warning look before Ryou pushed him out the door.  
  
Kaiba shut the door, then turned to glare.  
  
"He insulted me," I jumped to the defensive without giving him a chance to say anything.  
  
"I insult you at least once an hour," he pointed out. "Yet it's the DANGEROUS one you try to get mad at you."  
  
"Kaiba, to me, you're the dangerous one," I responded. He still looked about ready to strangle me.  
  
A phone rang, shattering the silence and causing both of us to start.  
  
Grumbling abou stupid ghsots, Kaiba stormed off to answer it.  
  
I decided now would be a wise time to return to the basement and give everyone a few more hours to chill before me and my insulting, annoying self came back.  
  
Of course, as Yami predicted, I lost track of time.  
  
When I did decide to come back up, it was dark. A glance at the clock revealed that it was two in the morning.  
  
Oops. Guess I overslept.  
  
I shrugged and settled onto the couch, determined to enjoy my Kaiba-free time.  
  
After about two minutes of staring at the ceiling, I decide that Kaiba-free time isn't as great as it sounds.  
  
After about four minutes, I decided that I was lonely.  
  
I sat up and looked at the stairs.  
  
Where was the little asshole, anyway?  
  
Right on cue, something upstairs hit the ground with a huge CRASH.  
  
I was through the floor in about half a second.  
  
I am now scarred for all enternity.  
  
Before that, however, I followed the noise and found myself in Kaiba's room.  
  
His window was open, although not the traditional way. A strong gust of wind had blown a tree branch into it, and the glass had shattered. I relaxed, relieved that it wasn't someone trying to sneak in.  
  
A light behind me went on, and I turned around.  
  
"YYYYYYAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"  
  
"SHAY!!!! Get the HELL out of here!" Kaiba yelled at me.  
  
Don't worry, Kaiba, I 'm already way gone.  
  
In that short second, I had seen more of Seto Kaiba that I had ever cared to see.  
  
Why did no one ever tell me he doesn't wear anything when he sleeps?  
  
Don't ask me how I found this out. It wasn't pleasant.  
  
Ten seconds later, Kaiba appeared at the bottom of the stairs. I heard him, but I didn't turn around.  
  
"Did it ever occur to you that I might be SLEEPING at two in the morning???!!!" he yelled.  
  
"You sleep?" I asked, suprised. I honestly was- I had seen him as much during the night as during the day, sometimes even more. Naturally I assumed he wasn't human enough to need sleep.  
  
That shock was nothing, however, compared to the next one.  
  
He hit me. He actually punched me.  
  
I reeled away, then headed for the ceiling.  
  
"Stay out of my room," he ordered. "Got it?"  
  
I nodded.  
  
He glared at me for a second longer, then turned and headed back upstairs.  
  
God, talk about your life-threatening experiences.  
  
I stayed precisely where I was until morning came. As soon as I heard movement upstairs, I made a beeline for the basement.  
  
Next time I'll be happy with staring at the ceiling.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Flame: Ah, yes, the mandatory very-big-oops chapter. Bigger oops than the kitchen. If it were me, I would've stayed. . . .  
  
AngelStarFire: lol *drools* Nekkid Kaiba.....  
  
Flame: I agree. 


	30. Sing Along

Flame: Yes. I am back at my house now. In case you were wondering, AngelStarFire and I are friends IRL. And her computer is half my age. So, yeah. If there were spelling mistakes, it's because that computer has been- ahem.  
  
Dancer: I don't see why you liked the last chapter. There was nothing graphic, nothing---- ::Flame lunges at Dancer and covers her mouth::  
  
Flame: It was the mental images. They were. . . . ::drools::  
  
Dancer: ::tries to push Flame's hand away but fails::  
  
Yugi-Girl: Yes, Battosei is from Ruroni Kenshin. Thanks, VB.  
  
Disclaimer: ::Shay is sitting next to Flame in her little corner:: Yeah. . . . she's still upset. She only owns me, not YGO. Or Battosei. ::pats Flame's shoulder.::  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
If I can ever look Kaiba in the eye again, it will be a miracle.  
  
As it was, I spent three more days hiding. Amazing how only he can make me do that.  
  
When I did come out, the next two weeks went by remarkably peacefully.  
  
However, after I'd been there a month, I began to hunger for the taste of trouble again.  
  
I must have really been a glutton for punishment as a living person, to act like this as a ghost.  
  
Boredom took over completely one day, and I began to sing.  
  
Now, there is nothing quite as annoying as a song that repeats over and over and over and over again. Like, say, '99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall.'  
  
The one thing that is: A ghost who can't really sing worth a damn singing '99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall.'  
  
After about three hours of forgetting what came after 22 bottles of beer, tequila, martinis, and wine successively, I decided to see what Kaiba thought came after them.  
  
Up until that moment, I had never really looked at the refrigerator.  
  
Like everything else in this mansion, it is huge.  
  
And by huge, I mean, stand-on-the-ground-and-look-up-to-see-the-top huge.  
  
I floated up and opened the freezer door.  
  
"Ice cream." I said.  
  
Stared at the freezer. Repeated myself, several times.  
  
After I got over my surprise at seeing about thirty gallons of ice cream, I pushed them out of the way.  
  
Nothing. Nothing in the way of alcohol, at least.  
  
I looked in the fridge second.  
  
Nope. Still nothing.  
  
"C'mon, Kaiba, you of all people have the perfect excuse to drink," I muttered.  
  
Still nothing. I couldn't help but wonder if he had a secret stash somewhere.  
  
The only place I could think of was his room, and the thought of having to go back in there-----  
  
Gah. No way in hell am I ever going anywhere near Kaiba's room ever again.  
  
It was mid-morning, so the Kaiba brothers were at school. I had until the afternoon.  
  
I went back to singing '99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall.' Got bored, went on to 'the Song That Never Ends.'  
  
Kaiba walked in to hear, to his undoubted delight, 'I Know A Song That Gets On Everyone's Nerves.'  
  
In fact, he was so happy to hear it, he turned right around and walked right back outside.  
  
I had to stop singing simply because singing and laughing at the same time is pretty damn hard.  
  
And that's even if you don't have to breathe.  
  
I got control of myself before Kaiba came back. He opened the door slowly, listening for the wonderful sounds of my voice. When he heard nothing, he entered.  
  
"If you ever sing in this house again, I swear I will have Bakura send you to the Shadow Realm," he hissed at me.  
  
I started laughing all over again.  
  
Well. I now have a new weapon to be used against Kaiba.  
  
Assuming he isn't serious about the whole send-Shay-to-the-Shadow-Realm thing.  
  
Mokuba followed him in and gave me a confused look. Apparently, he'd seen his brother's reaction, but hadn't heard the cause.  
  
Well, I wasn't going to give him more ammo.  
  
"I'm surprised you're not a blond," Kaiba said from the other room. "You continuously do stupid things that make people want to rip you apart, and hope for the best each time. That's the kind of stupid things the blonds I know do."  
  
"Hey," I sat up and swallowed the laughter that was still boiling inside me. "Since when do we know this for a fact?"  
  
"The only blond I know, whether or not I care to know him, is the mutt."  
  
Ahhh, Joey. That explains a lot.  
  
"Ya know," I muttered, "I don't really know what I look like, anyways."  
  
Mokuba looked at me, one eyebrow high.  
  
"Your hair's black, your eyes are dark red."  
  
Right. Thanks for the description, kid. I'm sorry, you were too specific. Could you be a little more vague?  
  
Well, the bandages around my arms we already know about. Regular jeans, a hole or two torn in them. Black t-shirt with a. . . . a rose?  
  
Indeed it was. A rose formed by curving lines. The lines were neon colored, every color of the neon rainbow. Inside the lines was black. Dripping off of one petal, a stark contrast to all the neon, was real red.  
  
Blood. The design had blood dripping off one petal, pooling near the bottom of my shirt.  
  
Whoa.  
  
Neat shirt, all the way around, but I think dying in it has kind of ruined its touch.  
  
I looked up in enough time to see Battosei sneak upstairs, sword in one hand, a huge bag of Pixi Stix in the other.  
  
Lord help us if she gets hyper.  
  
With a new goal in mind, I headed upstairs.  
  
And couldn't help but wonder if Kaiba would fire her if the kitchen was destroyed yet again, only with a sword this time. 


	31. Pixi Stix

Flame: Lord help me.  
  
Dancer: It was a one eyed, one horned, flying purple people eater!  
  
Flame: Yes, flying! You're going to be soon if you don't PUT A SOCK IN IT!  
  
Dancer: ::holds up the stuffed monstrosity that sings the hated song and points at the little cellophane wings:: He can fly.  
  
Flame: Yes, it can. But you can't, no matter how many times you try. So shove it already!  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own YGO. I don't own Battosei either. I only own Shay.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
I considered telling Kaiba about the newest threat to his house and all fragile things, but disregarded the notion.  
  
He'd be rather interested in how she found her sword, and I wasn't going there just yet.  
  
Instead, I followed her. She went into her room, then slammed the door right in my face. I ignored that and floated through.  
  
"So what happened that night a month ago?" she asked, catching me completely off-guard.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Again with the clueless-ness. Well, ok. Let me clarify. I heard shattering glass one night about a month ago, then Seto telling Mokuba and me not to worry about it. Then, a few seconds later, you yelled and Seto told you to get out. Care to elaborate?"  
  
"No, I don't. I refuse to relive that- wait. Seto? You're calling him Seto now?" I challenged. She blinked, surprised, then scrambled to cover herself.  
  
"Well, it IS his name. Besides, calling someone by their last name alone isn't very nice."  
  
"Where I come from, you have a first name for a personal basis. People call you Mr. or Miss or Mrs. or whatever. They just don't go around yellin' out your first name. It's like runnin' around tellin' people how much you weigh. You just don't."  
  
She shrugged. "You're in Japan now, Shay, not America. It's different out here."  
  
I stared at her. For several seconds, we were both silent.  
  
"You like him, don't you?" I asked. At the same time, she spoke.  
  
"Well, why I do what I do is none of your business."  
  
Once again, silence. She turned a deeper shade of red for each progressive second. Finally, she snapped.  
  
"No, I don't like him. He's mean, cold, heartless, selfish, cruel, emotionless, thoughtless, rich, merciless, ruthless, and an inconsiderate jerk."  
  
"And has complete control of your paycheck."  
  
Battosei squawked and spun around to face the door. Kaiba was glaring at her.  
  
"Oops," I muttered.  
  
"I second that," Battosei agreed.  
  
He glared at us for a second longer, then his eyes wandered to the sword that was lying on the bed.  
  
For the longest of moments, nothing happened. Then, completely without warning, he reached over, grabbed me by the front of my shirt, and dragged me out of the room.  
  
"I don't know how she found it," I lied. He didn't believe me.  
  
With one foot, Kaiba shut Battosei's door, then looked at me.  
  
Shit.  
  
"How did she get that sword?" he asked softly.  
  
"I don't know," I repeated.  
  
"Oh, really? At the very least, the only way she could find it is with the help of one of the basement cards. Ironic that Mokuba's is missing, isn't it?"  
  
"Ummmm. . . . . yes?" I tried.  
  
His eyes narrowed dangerously.  
  
"Remember that piece of paper taped to it?"  
  
I shook my head, caught his glare, then changed my mind and nodded.  
  
"Good," he answered, then backed off a few steps.  
  
"Remember, Shay, this is MY house. All because it's not your choice to be here doesn't mean you get to be an exception to every rule. You listen to me. If I say no, I mean for everyone, even you. Got it?"  
  
I nodded.  
  
"Good. Now get those Pixi Stix away from her, I am NOT dealing with her when she's hyper."  
  
I went through the wall and found myself back on the bed.  
  
"What'd he say?" Battosei asked. She was eating a purple stick, and already she was bouncing slightly on the bed. I looked at the pack she'd stolen.  
  
If she eats all of those, the survivors will have to be committed to a mental institution.  
  
"So. . . . I'm guessing Battosei isn't your real name," I said. Kaiba's words still rang in my head. Get those Pixi Stix. Got it.  
  
She shook her head. "Nope, Nikki's my real name, but nobody calls me that anymore."  
  
"Ah. Ok. Why not?"  
  
Evil glare.  
  
"I like Battosei."  
  
"I like Battosei too." I'd like it even better if I could get the sugar away from her.  
  
Mokuba suddenly yelled from downstairs. Nikki, Battosei, whatever her name is, looked down, as if she could see through the floor.  
  
I grabbed the Pixi Stix and made a run for it.  
  
Halfway down the stairs, I ran into Kaiba, who took the sugar and continued up. He vanished from sight after a second, and I figured he was going to his room.  
  
Yeah. That's good enough. I'll never forget that moment, and so long as I remember it, I'm staying out of that room.  
  
"What's up with the yelling?" I asked Mokuba when I got to the living room. He spun around to face me, eyes wide.  
  
"Where did my Pixi Stix go?"  
  
Good lord, I'm surrounded by Pixi Stix junkies. No wonder Kaiba was hiding them.  
  
I shrugged.  
  
"Battosei had them, but your brother took them."  
  
If possible, Mokuba's eyes went even wider.  
  
"SE-TO!!!!!!! DON'T THROW THEM AWAY!!!!" he yelled as he raced upstairs.  
  
I stared after him, completely shocked.  
  
No more Pixi Stix in this household. 


	32. Sugar Withdrawal

Flame: Does anybody want an excessively annoying, ice cream truck chasing, OEOHFPPE bearing teen? ::points at Dancer::  
  
Dancer: ::still singing along with the stuffed monster::  
  
Flame: Please?  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own YGO. I don't own Battosei. I only own Shay. But as soon as I find out what Dancer did with my tranq gun. . . . .  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
The Pixi Stix met their end at the cruel hands of Seto Kaiba.  
  
Personally, I was on his side. They had been Mokuba's, but Battosei apparently liked them as well. Either one or the other, or both, hyper is something I never want to see.  
  
I listened to the argument between brothers. From the impression I got, this had been a topic of discussion before. The rule still stands: no ten- year-old, whether or not that ten-year-old is Mokuba Kaiba, is allowed to eat Pixi Stix.  
  
I floated back up to Battosei's room to see how she was handling the lack of sugar.  
  
Just to be polite, I mostly go through doors. It's when I really don't want to be in the room that I go through the wall. so, Battosei got about a three second warning.  
  
All three of them looked up at me.  
  
Oh. My. God.  
  
I lunged back into the hallway, trying to convince myself that it was only the weird paint and reflections on the walls. There wasn't really three Battosei's.  
  
Right?  
  
One of the Battosei's walked out of the room, carrying the sword. She turned and walked in the direction Kaiba had taken.  
  
I stared after her, then looked back in the room.  
  
"Hey, Nikki," I said. One of the two remaining girls looked up.  
  
"I think the evil one just went to find Kaiba."  
  
I got out of the way as the other two raced past me, following the first.  
  
Downstairs. Sanity.  
  
Mokuba was sitting on the couch, staring at the ground and sniffling. I sighed.  
  
"Not you too."  
  
"He took my sugar," Mokuba moaned.  
  
Alright. Smile and nod and back away from the sugar addict.  
  
About the downstairs sanity thing? Forget it.  
  
If anybody needs me, I'll be hiding in the furnace in the basement.  
  
About four hours later, Kaiba yelled my name. I looked at the ceiling, but who knew, it could just be a ruse.  
  
"Get up here now, Shay, before I lock you in the freezer!" he yelled. Cold-blooded bastard'd find a way to do it, too.  
  
However, the threat pushed me over the edge. Yes, this was his house. Yes, he didn't want me here. Yes, I was to blame for most of the bad things that have happened around here as of late.  
  
But nobody, and I mean nobody, locks me in a freezer.  
  
I charged up through the floor and stopped in front of Kaiba himself.  
  
"Who the hell do you think you are?" I demanded.  
  
"Seto Kaiba."  
  
Silence.  
  
"Ok. Point taken."  
  
He just smiled.  
  
"Waddya need, asshole? Besides a heart."  
  
Kaiba didn't so much as bat an eye at my insult.  
  
"If you see candy of any sort, give it to me," he ordered.  
  
"How?"  
  
"How? How are you supposed to get it? You're a thief. Improvise."  
  
Great. I've gone from useless to a thief. Still, it's a rise in status.  
  
"And I never said you were useless."  
  
I stared at him. Did I say that out loud?  
  
Wait. Did HE say that out loud?  
  
Seto Kaiba had finally admitted that I'm not useless. I forgot about how he'd gotten that, only focused on what he'd said.  
  
Before I had the chance to start celebrating, he grabbed the front of my shirt.  
  
"Keep it to yourself."  
  
I nodded, but couldn't help the fact that I was grinning like a poorly carved jack-o-lantern.  
  
Kaiba pushed me away and walked off.  
  
I'm not useless.  
  
But I am pathetic. We both silently agreed to that.  
  
Still, the line between useless and pathetic is about a mile wide.  
  
I'm not useless. I'm just stupid, immature, impatient, challenging, stubborn, and scared still, sadly, scared shitless by Kaiba.  
  
Still, I'm not useless. 


	33. Dodanko

Flame: Jaa. Second chapter in one day. Love me.  
  
Dancer: Ooooo koo koo.  
  
Flame: Or help me get rid of her. Either one works. Thanks to AngelStarFire for the dodanko idea.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own YGO or Battosei. I only own Shay.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
How many hidden sugar stashes does one ten-year-old have to have to survive?  
  
If that poor child is Seto Kaiba's little brother, the answer is however many you can buy.  
  
We went on a Pixi Stix spree for a few days. Kaiba kept finding all of the secret places Mokuba hid the sugar, and Mokuba would only get more and hide it in a new place. Given that he had my help, Kaiba was much more efficient at finding and throwing away than Mokuba was at buying.  
  
That wouldn't stop Mokuba, however.  
  
"It would help if you stopped helping Seto," he informed me one day. I rolled my eyes.  
  
"You're kiddin', right?" I answered. The kid let out an exasperated sigh and stomped off.  
  
After the week was over, the whole sugar thing finally died down. All of Mokuba's money had either been spent on replaced Pixi Stix or taken by Kaiba.  
  
All that said and done, when I found a bundle of about thirty Pixi Stix, I decided to return to my old ways and be a pain for the elder Kaiba.  
  
In other words, Mokuba was getting his beloved Pixi Stix.  
  
I was halfway down the hallway when I ran into a big problem. A problem that was about six foot two with brown hair and icy blue eyes that made you want to curl up and hope he stopped looking at you.  
  
Kaiba was walking towards me and showing no sign of slowing down.  
  
"Shit."  
  
Me and my big mouth. I remember the last time I said shit. It'd been after Ryou, Mokuba, and I had gone joyriding in that lime green car. I'd said shit right after Mokuba had dropped the keys but, for all appearances, it was my delicate word choice that had drawn unwanted attention.  
  
Kaiba had started to go into his office, but upon that single word, he froze, then backed up until we were facing each other.  
  
That is the last time I say shit.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
"What do you mean, what am I doing?" I countered innocently.  
  
"Whenever you say shit, it's normally because I'm going to get mad at you."  
  
Damn, he's smart.  
  
I had hid the candy behind my back but, considering that I was still slightly translucent, it would be a matter of seconds before Kaiba understood the reason behind my cussing.  
  
One eyebrow went high, and he strode towards me. I turned to keep my back away from him, but he turned and walked back the other way. As soon as he was in the same place he started, he finally spoke.  
  
"Dodanko, that had better not be more Pixi Stix." He had that mysterious I- know-you-don't-know-what-in-the-hell-I-just-said smile. And sarcasm. Can't forget the sarcasm.  
  
Deciding to respond intelligently, I answered.  
  
"What's a dodanko? And why can't you ever talk to me without being sarcastic for once?"  
  
That damned smile grew.  
  
"Ask Mokuba. But first, the candy." He held out a hand.  
  
"Not until you tell me what a dodanko is."  
  
He shrugged.  
  
"Fine. Have it your way."  
  
In about half a second, I was staring at the ceiling.  
  
For a CEO, he's pretty damn good at fighting.  
  
After pulling myself out of the floor, I went in search of Mokuba.  
  
He stared at me when I explained the situation.  
  
"Go ask him if he was kidding," he ordered. When he refused to tell me, I did as commanded.  
  
Kaiba was in his office now, working on his laptop. He snorted when I repeated Mokuba's question.  
  
"What do you think? If he thinks even for a second that I'm serious, I'm disowning him."  
  
Great. I am now Shay the Mighty Ghost Messenger.  
  
"Good." Mokuba said when I told him about Kaiba's reaction. "I assumed he was being sarcastic, but. . . ."  
  
"Mokuba, you've got two seconds to tell me what a dodanko is before I turn you into one."  
  
Three minutes later, after I was done gasping in shock and sent Mokuba into tears, he was laughing so hard, I managed a reaction.  
  
"KAIBA!!!!!!"  
  
"I guess he finally told you," he muttered as I stormed into his office.  
  
"DUMPLING?!?!?!?!?!?!"  
  
He smiled.  
  
"I was trying to irritate you. Apparently, it worked." He picked up the laptop and stood. "Like I said, if I was serious, someone would have to do me the favor of putting me out of my misery." With that, he walked past me.  
  
Even better than messenger. I am now Shay the Hated Dumpling. 


	34. Revenge

Flame: Gaaaaahhh!!! Yes, I know, it's been a while. I went to the zoo yesterday and haven't had access to the puter for a while. Leave me alone to suffer in peace!  
  
Dancer: ::playing with the stuffed cheetah bought yesterday::  
  
Flame: Yeah. At least she's too worn out to be annoying.  
  
Alana: All right, I know, I know. I said I'd try. Gah.  
  
Disclaimer: Too tired. Fine. I don't own YGO. Battosei belongs to herself. I only own Shay.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Bad news: That annoying, pompous asshole is still calling me dodanko.  
  
Good news: He's being sarcastic every single time.  
  
Bad news: I'm a dumpling.  
  
Somehow, sarcastic or no, the whole "I'm a Dumpling!" thing is pretty degrading.  
  
At least Kaiba's getting a laugh. I suppose, after all I've put him through, he does deserve something. I knew this was coming, but I hadn't expected it to be so. . . .  
  
The only word I can think of is unexpected.  
  
Yeah. I make a lot of sense.  
  
After about two days of being called dodanko, I was going out of my way to avoid Kaiba. Who wouldn't? It was getting to the point that I was ready to try and see if I could strangle him.  
  
If he could touch me, then it was only fair that I could pick up something- say, a chair- and beat him over the head with it.  
  
I probably could. If said chair weighed less than a paperweight.  
  
As it was, I preferred to avoid him.  
  
Thursday came and mostly went. I spent the day wandering, as normal, but when the front door opened, a sensation greeted me.  
  
What I wouldn't do to destroy the ancient spirit that had just walked in. Both of them.  
  
Wait. I looked at Kaiba, who followed them in.  
  
Perfect.  
  
"Two can play at your sick little game," I muttered.  
  
"Just out of curiosity," I said as I floated in, "why do you people keep coming here?"  
  
Yami gave me an evil look.  
  
What'd I do this time?  
  
"You," the Pharaoh answered. "You need all the help we can give you."  
  
Funny. Very funny. So funny I might be tempted to take the chair from earlier to his head first.  
  
Might be, hell, I already am. Just give me a few days to find something light that'll leave both Kaiba and Yami with a huge headache.  
  
I watched Kaiba walk into the kitchen and smiled.  
  
"All right. Just to let you know ahead of time, do not take the next ten minutes seriously. I'm getting revenge on Kaiba." I grinned. Joey especially was going to get a kick out of this.  
  
Kaiba made one mistake- he came back into the living room.  
  
I jumped on him, threw my arms around his neck, and floated right behind him.  
  
"Hey, Seto," I cooed. "It's been a while."  
  
His eyes went wide, and he reached up to grab my arm, but the angle was wrong and he couldn't get a grip.  
  
"Shay-" he began.  
  
"What? No dodanko for me today?" I tried my best to sound deeply wounded.  
  
I swear, if he got any redder, he'd probably faint from lack of blood to any other part of his body.  
  
I managed to fight back the laughter that was bubbling up inside me.  
  
"Why, Seto," I scolded. "I thought you liked me to-"  
  
"All right, that's ENOUGH!" He twisted, grabbed my arm, and sent me flying through the wall.  
  
When I came back, Kaiba was the only one in the room not laughing.  
  
He gave me a death glare.  
  
"Gonna call me dodanko anymore?" I gasped. Had to. I couldn't stop laughing.  
  
He sneered, then stormed into the kitchen.  
  
"I can't believe you just did that," Mokuba panted. I shook my head and grinned.  
  
"Neither can I." I looked into the kitchen. "When he comes out, he is going to kill me."  
  
"Ah well," the kid answered. "It was worth the laugh."  
  
I had to agree, dangerous as it might have been to do so.  
  
Whether or not Kaiba still calls me dodanko, it most certainly was worth the laugh. 


	35. BLOOPERS!

Flame: I will apologize ahead for this chapter.  
  
Dancer: ::is sitting quietly in her own little corner, staring at the tranq gun Flame is pointing at her::  
  
Flame: Yes. After 34 chapters, I have decided to do something a bit out of the ordinary. Also, last year my father passed away on the 23rd of June, so I'll probably fade away for a few weeks around that time.  
  
Anyway, like I said, huge apology. . . . especially those of you who were counting on a real chapter. . . . . I'm sorry, I'll get to it soon! ^^;;;;;;;;  
  
Yesh. . . . BLOOPERS!!!!!!! These will be sorted by chapter and meant for your amusement. This will be a llooooonnnnng chapter. @.@  
  
* * * * * = Next blooper.  
  
~*~*~*~*~ = Next chapter.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own YGO, I probably won't own any quotes I might use (I'll specify if I do), and I do not own Battosei. The bloopers idea partially belongs to AngelStarFire, but I'm not going to do those sort, so yeah. I don't own Aspirin or Advil or any medicine I might mention.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 1: Shay  
  
* * * * *  
  
Shay stares at his lines for several long seconds.  
  
"Wait, wait. You mean I'm supposed to be narrating this entire thing? All the way through?"  
  
Flame: -.- "Yes."  
  
"But. . . . But. . . . . but. . . . . I don't WANNA relive all this shit!"  
  
"SHAY!!!!! GET GOING!!!!"  
  
"Yes ma'am!" Shay salutes the pushy authoress and immediately looks back at his script. "Now, what's my first line?"  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 2: Confused Yet?  
  
* * * * *  
  
I opened my eyes slowly, careful of the blinding light that streamed through the window. A chilly breeze blew past, ruffling my hair and sending shivers up my spine. I'd obviously left my window open and thrown the covers aside in my sleep. I reached out and grabbed for a blanket.  
  
When I pulled it over me and rolled over, I found myself staring into a pair none-too-happy green eyes.  
  
"Who gave you the blanket?"  
  
"Mokuba."  
  
"Thank you," Flame answered cheerfully before taking the blanket away and storming off.  
  
* * * * *  
  
(((Thanks to AngelStarFire for this one!!!! TY!!!)))  
  
No, after about three seconds of being aware that I was floating, I was no longer floating. I was falling.  
  
As any normal person would do in this situation, I screamed. And prayed. And flapped my arms in a pathetic attempt to fly.  
  
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!! !!  
  
Flame appears out of nowhere. "Are you quite through?"  
  
I do a few more flapping motions, well aware that I had stopped falling.  
  
"Yes"  
  
"Good. Now get moving."  
  
". . . . What do I do after that?"  
  
* * * * *  
  
Right on cue, I stopped falling as the ground suddenly became solid and met me nose-first.  
  
"Ow. . . ie. . ." I moaned. Knee-jerk reaction, even I admit. There was no pain. Not even a twinge. Oh, I was fully aware of the fact that my face had become a near-permanent part of the floor. But it didn't hurt.  
  
Yippee. Like the lack of pain made any difference.  
  
"I thought I was s'posed to wake up after I hit, not 'fore," I muttered as I pushed myself off the ground. No doubt I'd fallen from bed and woken up a heartbeat before I hit.  
  
I paused and looked up at the sound of giggling. "What?"  
  
Dancer pointed at me. "You're supposed to wake up BEFORE you hit, not AFTER. You said AFTER I hit, not BEFORE."  
  
"Ya know, she's right." Flame walked over calmly. "Get your lines right, Shay."  
  
* * * * *  
  
I concentrated on being able to touch the doorknob. It had worked with hitting the ground, so why not? To my surprise, it took very little mental effort to grab and turn the knob, or push the door open. Finally, something going my way.  
  
I thought.  
  
The doorknob slipped out of my hand twice. And once I had a grip, I couldn't open it.  
  
Flame walked over, touched the knob, then scowled. I know what THAT means.  
  
"KAIBA!!!!!!!! QUIT MESSING WITH THE PROPS!!!!!!!" she yelled.  
  
"And this is only chapter 2," I muttered.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 3: Walking Through and On  
  
* * * * *  
  
I was still looking for anything that might give me a clue as to how to get out of this place when I ran into- excuse me, through- the first living person I'd seen since my high dive from the sky.  
  
Neither of us were expecting it- we met around the corner. He walked right into me and knocked me over. I yelped as I hit the ground, the snarled.  
  
"Dammit, Kaiba, you're supposed to go THROUGH me!"  
  
"Try again," Flame said, massaging her temples. "For the fourth time. And you people wonder how I go through these so fast." She held up a bottle of Aspirin.  
  
"Not anymore," I muttered.  
  
* * * * *  
  
I follow him down one last set of stairs and waddya know, I'm in the living room. I think. It could just be a way oversized closet. I mean, in this house, who really knows what anything is?  
  
There's a kid watching TV.  
  
I blinked and looked again. There was no kid watching TV. There was, however, the faint noise of popcorn popping in the kitchen. I sighed, knowing Flame wouldn't be happy.  
  
Sure enough, she stormed into the kitchen, yelled something in French, and stormed out again, dragging Mokuba and his bowl of popcorn.  
  
She pushed him onto the couch and stormed off. Mokuba only laughed, until her next statement.  
  
"The next time you get up," she said in a really sweet, nice voice that automatically makes you know something's wrong, "I'm going to Superglue your head to the couch. Am I clear?"  
  
He nodded.  
  
"Good. Alright, let's try this one more time."  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 4: Rule Number One: Remember the Slingshot  
  
* * * * *  
  
After playing a few rousing games of "Dodge-pipes" and "Cuss Out Kaiba" (I did not yet know his name, so he was just 'the psycho guy' to me), I got outside. And I got soaked, as is natural for anyone who goes out into the rain. And I froze over. And I sank.  
  
I felt as stiff as a log. I also felt like a moron, making swimming motions as I tried in vain to get back into the mansion. Combined, the two made me look like I was a frog in molasses.  
  
A bright flash behind me alerted me to the annoying teen standing there.  
  
Dancer grinned at me. She had an umbrella and a camera. Not for long, from the looks of it. Flame ran over, grabbed the umbrella, closed it, and hit Dancer with it.  
  
"Moron!" she yelled. "You can't take a picture of a ghost! He won't show up! Now quit interrupting my story!" She pointed over to the tree. "Go climb that and wait for some lightning to hit you."  
  
"Ok!" Dancer ran off cheerfully. Flame just sighed.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Have you ever made a slingshot with a rubber band, two pencils, and a small, round, and heavy object? Okay. Replace the rubber band with some weird magic force field. Replace the pencils with two trees I sank past. Replace the small object with me.  
  
Get the picture?  
  
"I WANNA PLAY WITH THE RUBBER BANDS!!!!!" Dancer yelled from her tree.  
  
I didn't catch the rest of that one. I was too busy flying through the mansion courtesy of the Slingshot Effect.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 5: Computer Problems  
  
* * * * *  
  
I floated through the wall and found a little slice of heaven sitting, open and awaiting my slightest whim, on the coffee table. With neither Mokuba nor the maids in sight, I grabbed it and floated up through the ceiling.  
  
THUNK.  
  
Oops. Shit.  
  
Flame walked over as I dropped down. We both watched a large portion of the ceiling crack and finally fall.  
  
"Oops?" I tried again. She gave me her trademark death glare.  
  
"All right, Shay, be more gentle with the thing. It IS a computer, after all. Kaiba, get someone fixing this ceiling. And Mokuba, DROP THOSE PIXI STIX!!!!! THEY'RE FOR LATER!!!!!!"  
  
I don't think I'll ever be an author.  
  
* * * * *  
  
I didn't know anyone was there until he spoke, and consequentially scared the crap out of me.  
  
"Who are you and what are you doing here?"  
  
I jumped about three feet, then crashed back onto the bed. A second attempt was much more successful.  
  
I glanced back in time to see the laptop start to slide. I tried to grab it, but it was too late.  
  
We both sat and watched as the laptop hit the ground with a very satisfying CRUNCH.  
  
"Shay," Flame said in that sweet voice as she walked over. "You do realize you've gone through eight laptops in this chapter alone?"  
  
"Um. . . . yes?" I tried, not wanting to get her mad.  
  
"Good. NOW QUIT DESTROYING THEM!!!"  
  
"Sorry," I answered. She growled and stormed off.  
  
* * * * *  
  
For such a little squirt, he was awfully bossy. He glared at me, an obvious challenge. I sent a silent prayer to the god of ghosts that he hadn't seen me floating. Then I realized that he was about two seconds away from hitting me with the pillow he'd grabbed from lord knows where.  
  
I looked again, then started laughing. Mokuba was trying, I'll give him that, but I don't think he was cut out for this sort of thing.  
  
"Mokuba," Flame walked over, gently took the bag of marshmallows away from him, and whapped him over the head, sending little white puffballs flying everywhere.  
  
"Pillow. GOT IT??!!! PILLOW!!!" Flame chased him away, then wandered over and sat on the bed next to me. "I need a new bottle," she muttered, holding up the Aspirin.  
  
"Out already?"  
  
She gave me the death glare again.  
  
"This is your third bottle," I informed her. "You're becoming an Aspirin junkie."  
  
"Do you want me to stuff you full of marshmallows and shove you in the freezer?" she asked pleasantly. When I shook my head, she continued. "Thought not. Now put a sock in it and get me another bottle."  
  
* * * * *  
  
(((TY to AngelStarFire for this one again!!!!!!)))  
  
How, precisely, does one 'butter up' a ten-year-old rich kid? By THROWING BUTTER OF COURSE!  
  
And me throwing butter (which I got from hell-knows-where) led to the foodfight that could feed third world countries. You named it, we had it. Pickles, bananas, squash, watermelon balls, everything.  
  
Flame: facevault. "I need a vacation. . . . ."  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 6: Rule Number Two: Spirit-Memory-Loss-Disease  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Look, Yami isn't really going to like you that much if you insult him this way." Well, if that ain't the understatement of the year. Guess what kid, spirits are territorial, Yami's not gonna like me no matter what I do.  
  
"Who?" was my blank reply. "You mean that spiky-haired, know-it-all, sarcastic, insulting, paranoid, pushy, snappish mirror image of Yugi?"  
  
"All right, Shay, we know you don't like Yami," Flame growled as she walked over. "But stick with the script before I lock BOTH OF YOU in the freezer!"  
  
* * * * *  
  
"You know what? Just follow me," he ordered. He then grabbed the laptop and headed out.  
  
I watched as the laptop slid out of his grasp and hit the floor.  
  
"I did not do this one," I defended myself instantly. However, Flame wasn't there.  
  
I looked around, then found her.  
  
"I'm fifteen, almost sixteen," she muttered as she stood in front of the mirror. "Yet I'm already getting gray hairs."  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 7: Rule Number Three: Be Glad I Can't Kill  
  
* * * * *  
  
My forearms were wrapped in bandages, especially my wrists.  
  
Once I was certain no one could see me, I unwrapped the bandages on my left arm. And stared.  
  
"Umm. . . . . Flame?"  
  
She walked over. "Nani?"  
  
"Aren't there supposed to be, like, wounds?" I asked.  
  
She glared for a second. "I'm going to kill her," she muttered finally.  
  
I looked back at my arm and the red smiley face drawn by the marker that was supposed to have drawn my wounds.  
  
Off to one side, Dancer giggled.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 8: Two Rules and a Mad Yami  
  
* * * * *  
  
Rule Number Four: Cold and liquids are no-no's.  
  
Rule Number Five: Never insult a hikari when the yami is present.  
  
Note to self: Look up 'ethereal' and 'hikari', ask Kaiba what's so special about glass, have someone bring in a large rock for future encounters with the Pharaoh.  
  
Dancer suddenly appeared, wrapped in Marik's cloak and running around with her arms spread.  
  
"I AM AN AIRPLANE! I AM A BIRDIE! SHAY IS A SPONGE!! I AM----" WHAM.  
  
"Partially dead and going to be completely if you don't give that back and STOP INTERRUPTING MY FIC!" Flame yelled.  
  
"And waddya mean, I'm a sponge?!" I demanded.  
  
Everyone else in the room: -.-;;;;;;;;;;;;;  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 9: Prelude to Terror, Shay's Way  
  
* * * * *  
  
Imagine it: a huge, 20-oz. fillet. Rare, of course. Huge baked potato with butter, cheese, sour cream, all the good stuff. Steak sauce so good, you want to drink it straight out of the bottle. Corn-on-the-cob with slabs of butter, literally melting off, and salt. Big, tall, cold glass of foamy beer. A huge slice of New York-style cheesecake, covered with strawberries. Real strawberries, not out of a can. And a little dab of whipped cream. Maybe a Caesar salad with Italian dressing poured on by the cups for starters.  
  
Dancer suddenly appeared, heavily bandaged but still in possession of Marik's cloak. She was drooling.  
  
"Ooooooooo, fooooood," she murmured.  
  
"Yuck," I muttered. "Hey, get off! FLAME!!!!!!! YOUR HIKARI IS CHEWING ON MY ARM!!!!!"  
  
Flame didn't appear. Wherever she was, she was hidden good.  
  
Without warning, Marik walked in.  
  
"Uh oh," Dancer muttered. She jumped off and ran away, Marik right on her heels.  
  
Flame walked in after him and smiled cheerfully.  
  
"Problem taken care of," she informed us pleasantly. "Now, where were we?"  
  
* * * * *  
  
(((TY to AngelStarFire. . . . you know the drill. ^^;;;;;)))  
  
Me, I was tickled pink at how he said it. Heartless bastard... hey... wait a sec! The pink isn't going away!  
  
Kaiba: laughs backstage, a can of neon-pink paint in his hand. "Hehe. . ."  
  
Flame: -.-;;;;;;;;;;; "Kaiba. . . . this is your last warning. . . . ."  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 10: How to Haunt Kaiba Corp.  
  
* * * * *  
  
I was hanging out in the lobby when the glass doors opened and a long stream of kids started flowing in. With both feet firmly on the ground, I looked like a normal person. I hope.  
  
When about half the kids file through me without realizing it, I decided I was pretty much safe.  
  
I floated up, towards the ceiling, and scanned the pack for Mokuba.  
  
One observant little girl tugged at her teacher's sleeve and pointed at me.  
  
"Sensei, how is he floating?"  
  
I dropped like a rock. "FLAME!!!!!!!! YOU SAID THEY COULDN'T SEE ME!!!!!!!!!!!"  
  
Flame ran in and talked to the little girl for a few minutes, then stood and nodded at me.  
  
"Try again," she ordered. I saw a bag of Pixi Stix exchange hands. Flame only smiled at me.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 11: Thumb Tacks, Markers, and Rubber Cement  
  
* * * * *  
  
I took my cue and turned the lights off again.  
  
This time, all of them screamed, and I thought I heard Mokuba laugh. A really evil laugh, like the mad scientist kind of laugh.  
  
I turned on the lights and we all looked at Mokuba as he kept cackling.  
  
Ten minutes later, the medic came in and informed us that he'd had to give the younger Kaiba oxygen, but other than that, Mokuba had stopped laughing and was fine.  
  
Flame, sitting in the chair behind the desk, was counting out four Aspirin.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Kaiba was calling.  
  
I said good-bye to Mokuba and floated up, through more levels than should ever be in one building. I stopped about nose-to-nose with Kaiba. He started, then, completely without warning, he punched me.  
  
"Ow!" I yelped as I hit the ground.  
  
"Kaiba! He was SUPPOSED to come up that close to you, and you were supposed to step back, not hit him!" Flame yelled.  
  
"I know," the rich bastard answered.  
  
Everyone: -.-;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 12: Flying Blue Eyes  
  
* * * * *  
  
Fortunately, Kaiba's got a great setup. Big, wide open spaces. Lots of shiny tile and huge glass windows. A small elevator that apparently only goes to this floor and the roof. And Duel Monster cards.  
  
I can't remember if I ever played, but I can tell that no one can beat this guy. I snatched his briefcase and carried it over to the far side of the room. Upon opening the lid, I could only stare.  
  
"Ummm. . . . Kaiba?" I asked.  
  
"You're not supposed to say anything." He countered.  
  
"Yeah, but I think Dancer's back to her old tricks. . . . this is empty." I showed it to him. He glared furiously at the empty briefcase for a moment, then yelled for Flame.  
  
Flame scowled, then sighed. "I'll find the real briefcase," she muttered, rubbing her temples again. "Kaiba, go find Malik and tell him we need his yami again."  
  
* * * * *  
  
I turned back around and stared at the door. Tried to open it with my mind. Maybe ghosts are really messed up psychics in some ways.  
  
I jumped when the door creaked open slowly. There was nobody beyond it.  
  
"I opened it," I yelled, cheering myself.  
  
"Wrong," Kaiba informed me. He stood and walked out the door.  
  
A few minutes later, he returned with the real briefcase with all his Duel Monster cards.  
  
"It was just Dancer," he finished. "Marik isn't here yet."  
  
"Ah," I answered.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 13: Can We Leave Now?  
  
* * * * *  
  
I found myself on the roof.  
  
Helicopter pad, wide open space. Not a lot up there. I wandered over to the edge of the building and looked down.  
  
I got dizzy and felt a brief moment of fear. Considering that I can float, that's saying something.  
  
"BOO!!!!!!!!!"  
  
"YYAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!!!" I jumped forward, using my float to catch myself before I started to fall. I landed on the building and glared at Dancer, who was giggling.  
  
"What the hell did you do that for? You scared the shit out of me!" I yelled at her. She only laughed harder.  
  
"I can't wait till Marik gets here," I muttered.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 14: Bugs  
  
* * * * *  
  
"All right," he announced as he stood. "Hide this somewhere where you know you'll find it." He handed me the disk, then unplugged the laptop, gave it to me, and headed towards the elevator.  
  
There was a distinct CRACK when the laptop ran into the back of Mokuba's head.  
  
"Ow! Watch it!" he ordered, jumping away and rubbing his new bruise.  
  
I started to open my mouth, but I was to busy trying to stop the laptop from falling.  
  
Too little, too late. It hit the ground with a loud CRASH.  
  
The elevator doors dinged and opened. Flame walked over and silently handed me another one before walking out.  
  
I just stared.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 15: I Can't Remember, But I Won't Forget  
  
I honestly can't think of anything for this chapter. Sorry. ^^;;;;;;;;;;  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 16: Unknown Memories  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Where were you between November 1st and April 14th?"  
  
Kaiba's taken to pacing. He apparently had the article memorized.  
  
Before I could answer, Dancer popped in, once again wearing Marik's cloak.  
  
"Where were you on November the first when you died?"  
  
"I died on October 31st," I countered. "And I was in a park. Getting killed. Any other brilliant questions?"  
  
She opened her mouth, then closed it and shook her head.  
  
"Good. Now bug off."  
  
* * * * *  
  
I slowly picked up the keys to Kaiba's limo and grinned, turning to face Mokuba.  
  
"Have you ever gone joyriding?"  
  
"Yep," Mokuba answered proudly. "There was this one time Seto-"  
  
Kaiba lunged on his brother, covering Mokuba's mouth. "The correct answer is no," he growled.  
  
"This is one story I want to hear." I said.  
  
"Later." Mokuba answered as soon as Kaiba walked off. "Now, where were we?"  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 17: Troubles of the Lime Green Suv  
  
* * * * *  
  
I heard Ryou scrambling around in the seat behind me, but it was Mokuba who clarified what he was doing.  
  
"Ryou!" he protested, twisting around so he could see his pale-haired friend. "You only need one seat belt, ok? If we get in a wreck, three isn't going to help you anymore than one is."  
  
A few seconds later, there was a strangled noise from the back. Mokuba twisted around to look, then turned back to me.  
  
"Shay, pull over!!! Ryou's being strangled by a seat belt!!!!"  
  
* * * * *  
  
(((TY to AngelStarFire for this one. We're friends IRL, in case you can't tell.)))  
  
Now I know how they can rightfully say '0 to 200+ in two seconds flat'.  
  
Tires squealed, and we were propelled forward. Seconds later, the lime- green SUV crashed into a pile of backdrops that some idiot had laid in the middle of the 'road'.  
  
Flame: "...SHAY! Damnit. . . I KNEW we should have gotten a stunt double. . . I knew it. . . just knew it. . .!  
  
Mokuba is giggling like an idiot to my left while Ryou is gripping the back of my seat (ever the serious actor, even when something goes awry he follows his lines... *sigh*).  
  
* * * * *  
  
Tires squealed, and we were propelled forward. Everybody on the upcoming highway shifted to one side, obviously noting my none-too-safe acceleration.  
  
I flew, literally flew, onto the highway going 80 mph.  
  
There was a definite WHUMP as all four tires reunited with the ground at the same time.  
  
Then there was a synchronized explosion as three of the four tires decided they couldn't handle the pressure.  
  
I pulled over and sat there as Flame walked over. She collapsed against my door, laughing so hard she was crying.  
  
"I'm not gonna get blamed for this one, am I?" I asked. She just kept laughing and waved a hand.  
  
"Try. . . . . a. . . . . gain. . . ." she gasped, then wandered off, still laughing.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Tires squealed, and we were propelled forward. Everybody on the upcoming highway shifted to one side, obviously noting my none-too-safe acceleration.  
  
I flew, literally flew, onto the highway going 80 mph.  
  
There was a definite WHUMP as all four tires reunited with the ground at the same time.  
  
Following the whump was a CRASH.  
  
"Ummm. . . . officer, you were supposed to be way up there. . . ." I informed him mildly three minutes later.  
  
"What do you get for turning a police car into putty?" Ryou asked.  
  
"I dunno, but whatever it is, Shay's gonna get it." Mokuba answered.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Tires squealed, and we were propelled forward. Everybody on the upcoming highway shifted to one side, obviously noting my none-too-safe acceleration.  
  
I flew, literally flew, onto the highway going 80 mph.  
  
There was a definite WHUMP as all four tires reunited with the ground at the same time.  
  
Then, there was a long and loud squeal as I tried in vain to avoid the edge of the highway.  
  
Ten minutes later, we were all standing on top of the hill, looking at the SUV, which was now lying on its back in a ditch.  
  
"Oops," I muttered.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Tires squealed, and we were propelled forward. Everybody on the upcoming highway shifted to one side, obviously noting my none-too-safe acceleration.  
  
I flew, literally flew, onto the highway going 80 mph.  
  
There was a definite WHUMP as all four tires reunited with the ground at the same time.  
  
Then, yet again, a CRASH.  
  
"I swear, Flame, he purposely swerved to hit me," I found myself saying twenty minutes later.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Flame is staring at the Ford bills she received.  
  
"Two million American dollars on lime green Ford Expeditions." she muttered. Her left eye was twitching.  
  
"Kaiba," Dancer called. "We need your credit card."  
  
"THE ONLY THING THAT DAMN GHOST HAS DESTROYED MORE OF IS LAPTOPS!!!!!!"  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 18: Can We Keep Her?  
  
* * * * *  
  
The cop studied him closely for a minute, then backed off a step or two.  
  
"Who's driving?" he asked, warily now. Apparently, the police don't want dear big brother Seto getting mad.  
  
"A ghost named Shay," Mokuba answered, not once dropping the superior tone. "My brother's late for a very big meeting, and you're holding us up."  
  
He probably would have never noticed the problem if I hadn't burst out laughing.  
  
"Who's driving?" I asked.  
  
Mokuba pulled out his script and looked at it.  
  
"Oh," he muttered. "Ok, try that again."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Sounds came from the kitchen. Talking, a faucet running. Kaiba said something. Didn't sound happy.  
  
At least he wasn't trying to hunt us down.  
  
We got across the living room and halfway up the stairs before Bakura appeared.  
  
"You're supposed to drop the keys back there." He reminded us.  
  
"Oh, yeah." Mokuba muttered. "Do it again."  
  
* * * * *  
  
"He-" Kaiba began.  
  
"He what?" she snapped. "He didn't hurt Mokuba. He hasn't done anything to you. YOU'RE just being as rude as always. He walks through the door, you try to kill him. Although, considering that this is you we're talking about, I'm not too surprised. You don't care for people, so I guess you have a reason, at least in YOUR psychotic, tiny little brain."  
  
"Why are you insulting him? We know you like him." One of Battosei's other selves asked.  
  
"Viper!" Battosei yelped. "Shut up and go away!"  
  
"You like him?" Flame asked. Battosei went completely red and shook her head.  
  
"Good. All mine." Flame jumps on Kaiba and kisses him on the cheek.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 20: Being Alive Must Really Suck  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Um. . . . Kaiba has somethin' to say to you," I answered with a sudden flash of inspiration.  
  
"About time. I was wondering how long it would take him to shut his big mouth and come up with a response."  
  
"Ah, yes, well, see, the thing is. . . . he hasn't yet, I don't think. He just wants to tell you somethin'."  
  
"What?"  
  
"He wanted to say that he loves you in a small, secret portion of his heart and he wants to elope as soon as possible, but you can't tell Flame or she'll get pissed."  
  
"SHAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"  
  
"Oops, gotta go, she's here now." I dove away with Flame chasing me.  
  
Battosei: O.O;;;;;;;;;  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 21: It's Pale Rose  
  
* * * * *  
  
Pink. I was drowning in pink.  
  
Pink, thick carpet leading to the pale pink walls. Pink, frilly curtains over a pink-framed window. Thick, pink covers on the bed and pink pillow cases.  
  
And Dancer in a pink tutu, doing some sort of ballet dance that looked like it came from Swan Lake.  
  
Flame stormed in and pushed Dancer out of the room.  
  
I blinked, then shook my head.  
  
"Just smile and nod, Shay, just smile and nod." Flame called over her shoulder.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 22: Sweet Dreams  
  
* * * * *  
  
The rain was coming down in sheets. Lightning split the black clouds, and thunder growled.  
  
I don't know where I am. I don't know how I got here. I know nothing.  
  
"Hey, Flame," I called. "How is it that I'm not absorbing this rain when I absorbed the last rain?"  
  
"Shay?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"READ THE SCRIPT AND DO AS IT SAYS!!!!"  
  
* * * * *  
  
(((Three guesses what I'm gonna say here. This one is TY to AngelStarFire.)))  
  
Like the body, I can't see this person. It's all fuzzy. But both hands are clear. I can see large, bloody dagger in the other hand. And what he took from me. "...HEY! Those are MY lucky boxers!"  
  
Person: *sweatdrops*  
  
Flame: *sweatdrops*  
  
Dancer: O.o;;;;  
  
* * * * *  
  
(((Again . . . TY to AngelStarFire)))  
  
"How the hell should I know?" I countered angrily. Remembered the dream.  
  
Now, everything makes sense.  
  
Someone took me lucky boxers.  
  
And they are going to regret it.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 23: Revenge  
  
* * * * *  
  
(((Jaa. AngelStarFire again. She helped me a lot, can't you tell?)))  
  
Blank. He's just staring off into space.  
  
"You couldn't see his face?" he asked after a few seconds.  
  
"Nope."  
  
"Then how do you know it was a man?"  
  
"...because he took my lucky boxers."  
  
Flame: facevault "I thought we went over this. . . Shay . . ." muttering "you were killed. . . no one took your lucky boxers. . . ."  
  
Shay ignores her  
  
Kaiba: but it's possible it was a woman. . .  
  
"No way. Why would a woman want my lucky boxers?"  
  
Kaiba: "I don't know. . . why would she?"  
  
Flame: -.-;;;;;;;;;;; "someone get me some duct tape, some rope, and a bunch of tranqs, 'cause I'm gonna need 'em. . ."  
  
* * * * *  
  
(((Now, I'm sorry about this one. It's AngelStarFire's fault.)))  
  
This situation was, naturally for me, not normal.  
  
*falls through several floors to land on Yami's lap, according to script.*  
  
"Shit!" I jumped away from my landing place. Correction: I TRIED to jump away from my landing place, only to find that Yami had wrapped his arms around my waist and was cooing into my ear.  
  
Flame: Comes running onto the set. "YAMI!!! WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT 'GETTING FRIENDLY' WITH OTHER CAST MEMBERS ON SET?!  
  
Yami: ignores her  
  
". . . . .help me. . .!"  
  
* * * * *  
  
(((AngelStarFire again.)))  
  
"Somethin' up there busted up? Cause that's the third time you've said that. Yer turnin' into some broken record."  
  
Kaiba: "Ya know, you might be right." Reaches back and tugs at the skin behind his ear, ripping away his entire scalp to reveal a mechanical brain.  
  
Shay: O.O Faints  
  
The real Kaiba: comes from backstage "I love this line of work. . ."  
  
Android: pulls his scalp back on  
  
Flame: pokes at the android. "Wow, Kaiba. You really outdid yourself this time."  
  
Kaiba: grins "I know."  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 24: Power  
  
I am not doing anything to this chapter. I like it too much. I'm amazed you've lasted this long. . . . this is page 22 on Word, 5,203 words.  
  
Holy crap.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 25: Apology Not Accepted  
  
* * * * *  
  
I had wanted to kill Seto Kaiba. I had tried to kill Seto Kaiba.  
  
I had almost succeeded in killing Seto Kaiba.  
  
"Hey, Flame," I called. Something ripped, probably whatever she was holding at the time.  
  
"What do you want, Shay?"  
  
"I'm over here moping about almost killing someone, so is there a reason I'm eye-to-eye with a real skeleton?"  
  
"KAIBA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"  
  
* * * * *  
  
The room had been completely replaced. Walls, ceiling, floor, windows, all appliances, cupboard doors and countertops. The glasses and plates were new, the silverware had been replaced. Paint had been literally peeled off by my power and small chips of it were still lying around.  
  
I looked around and sighed, then noticed something I hadn't seen before.  
  
And stared.  
  
Seto Kaiba would not, or so I had thought, allow that wallpaper in his house, ever.  
  
The kitchen had been redone in cute little ponies, rainbows, and a bunch of smiley faces. Everything was pale yellow or pink or purple or blue or green.  
  
Kaiba walked in, then froze.  
  
Taped on the pale blue microwave was a note:  
  
~Seto,  
  
This is for the skeleton thing.~  
  
* * * * *  
  
Unable to come up with a response to that, I tried for something else.  
  
"How do you know you were the High Priest?" I asked.  
  
Kaiba blinked and gave me an odd look for a second, then continued.  
  
"Bakura told me."  
  
"Wait, wait," Flame ordered. "Kaiba, I can understand that you'd want to go on without it, but, Shay, it's High PriestESS."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"I was fine without it," Kaiba grouched.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Mokuba appeared at the bottom of the stairs, grabbed a headset and CD player off the table, and pointedly dropped a roll of duct tape onto the couch next to Kaiba. We both watched him march back upstairs.  
  
"Mokuba?" Kaiba asked after a second.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Did Dancer give this to you?" he asked.  
  
"No, why?" the kid came back downstairs.  
  
Kaiba showed him the duct tape, then me.  
  
Instead of the script's picture, a heart was drawn on it, surrounding the words "Shay and Kaiba" and a pair of lips.  
  
"Oops," Mokuba muttered, turning bright red. "Um, actually, you weren't supposed see that---"  
  
"YOU drew this?" Kaiba yelled.  
  
Mokuba grinned and let out an embarrassed giggle, then quite wisely turned and ran for his life, his older brother right behind him.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 26: Oops  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Well, they're MY powers," I shot back. "And I'm telling them. They deserve to know what I can do."  
  
Kaiba shook his head, then froze. He turned to face Joey.  
  
"Ummm. . . . Joey?" I tried after a second.  
  
The blond had yet to wake up.  
  
No mercy from Kaiba, who grabbed the pillow Joey's head was on and pulled it right out from under him.  
  
Joey yelped and cussed as he hit the ground.  
  
"What de hell was dat fer?!"  
  
"You were supposed to wake up three minutes ago, mutt," Kaiba snarled.  
  
"Flame," I called. "I need some of your Aspirin."  
  
"Aspirin doesn't work. I have Tylenol." She answered cheerfully.  
  
"Just gimme some," I answered as Kaiba and Joey started arguing about Joey's nickname.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 27: How to Get Bakura Mad  
  
* * * * *  
  
I turned to face him.  
  
"Why don't you watch it, snowball?"  
  
Bakura literally spat out the soda in his mouth, then spun around to glare at me.  
  
"Snowball???!!!"  
  
Before I could answer, Viper appeared, sword in hand.  
  
"SNOWBALL????!!!!!!" she screeched. My eyes went wide.  
  
"DO NOT INSULT MY BAKURA!!!!" she yelled as she chased me into the living room and around the mansion.  
  
* * * * *  
  
He looked down, then back up at me.  
  
By now, I was twirling the Ring around my finger by its rope.  
  
Yeah. He's gonna kill me.  
  
"NNNNNOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!" he howled, and tried to jump for me. "MMMYYYYY PRRREEEECCCCIIIOUSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"  
  
Everyone: O.O  
  
Ryou sighed. "No more watching Lord of the Rings for you," he muttered.  
  
"Can I start calling him Golum now?" I asked.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Once I was in the living room, I rose to about twenty feet off the ground. He was right below me, looking like he was about ready to climb up the wall if need be.  
  
He suddenly pulled out four huge suction cups and started doing precisely that.  
  
"DANCER!!!!!!!!!!" Flame yelled as she grabbed the suction cups away from Bakura.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 28: Keep Away  
  
Oh my god. . . . I just reread this chapter and realized something.  
  
It is too perfect. I'm not gonna mess with it.  
  
26 pages and 5,995 words and five chapters left. . . . THE COUNTDOWN BEGINS!!!!  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 29: Seto Kaiba in the Flesh  
  
* * * * *  
  
Oops. Guess I overslept.  
  
I shrugged and settled onto the couch, determined to enjoy my Kaiba-free time.  
  
After about half an hour, Flame walked over.  
  
"I know you don't want to see Kaiba naked," she growled, "but we just got Kaiba to do as he's told."  
  
"Is he using that android again?"  
  
Flame blushed, and I stared. She blushes. Holy shit, I didn't think she was capable of so human an action.  
  
"Well, uh, no, he didn't, um, the. . . . what the hell am I talking to you for???!!! Get moving!!!"  
  
"You like Kaiba, don't you?"  
  
"Yup. But at least I didn't try to peek like Battosei.  
  
That was more than I needed to know.  
  
"Really? Congratulations on your self control."  
  
She blinked, then hid the video camera she was holding behind her back and smiled.  
  
I groaned.  
  
* * * * *  
  
(((AngelStarFire again, peeps. Gotta love her.)))  
  
When I did decide to come back up, it was dark. A glance at the clock revealed that it was two in the morning.  
  
Oops. Guess I overslept.  
  
I shrugged and settled onto the couch, determined to enjoy my Kaiba-free time.  
  
After about two minutes of staring at the ceiling, I decide that Kaiba-free time isn't as great as it sounds.  
  
After about four minutes, I decided that I was lonely. Time for Mr. TV!  
  
". . .PORN!"  
  
Flame: -.-;;;;; "Shay?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
Flame: "You DID realize you are going to see a naked Kaiba in a few minutes anyways... right?"  
  
". . .yes."  
  
Flame: ". . . . . . . THEN WHY THE HELL DO YOU NEED TO BE WATCHING PORN?! YOU'RE GOING TO BE SEEING A NAKED GUY IN A MOMENT ANYWAYS!"  
  
". . . . your point?"  
  
Flame: -.-;;; facevaults  
  
* * * * *  
  
(((Her again. . . . can you tell what she writes?)))  
  
In that short second, I had seen more of Seto Kaiba that I had ever cared to see.  
  
Why did no one ever tell me he doesn't wear anything when he sleeps?  
  
Suddenly, I forgot all that.  
  
"Flame?"  
  
Flame: "Yes?"  
  
"What was Yami doing in bed with Seto?"  
  
Flame: O.O;;;; "YYYAAAAMMMMMIIIIII!!!!!!!"  
  
I am leaving and I am never coming back.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Chapter 30: Sing Along ((A/N: I'm stopping here. This was hard as hell to write. 28 pages and 6,477 words. Blah.))  
  
* * * * *  
  
Mokuba looked at me, one eyebrow high.  
  
"Your hair's red, your eyes are black."  
  
Flame appeared, then growled.  
  
"DANCER!!!!!!!!!!!! GIVE ME THOSE MARKERS, NOW!!!!!!!"  
  
"Huh?" I asked. Kaiba walked back in, then stared at me, then started laughing.  
  
"Do yourself a favor," Flame snapped at me, "and wash your face and hair. And be really, really glad you don't have a reflection."  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
END  
  
Flame: Not of the story, but of the bloopers chapter. Tell me what you think. AngelStarFire and I worked on this all day long, so be nice. And yes, I know, there was some hints of shonen-ai and flat out yaoi, but. . . . be nice, ne? 


	36. Of Rainbows and Cockroaches

Flame: Sorry I'm taking so long. I know, it's been a while, but. . . . ff.net has been having problems. I couldn't get the new chapter to show up in the uploaded document manager thingy. Sorry, not my fault. I had this ready and everything on Tuesday.  
  
Dancer: Owie.  
  
Flame: Yes, Dancer has finally proven herself to be the ultimate klutz. She sliced up her hand, in between the middle and ring finger, three days ago. How'd she do it? She walked into a doorframe. Bled a lot, and it's kinda deep, but she's okay now. Well, actually, we found out that aspirin is some sort of sugar amplifier, so if she takes aspirin, she's not allowed to drink Pepsi.  
  
Also, even though I think I know what the general response will be, I got a review suggesting that the story be turned into yaoi. . . like, Seto/Shay yaoi. Any opinions?  
  
And AngelStarFire? You only get one turn to say anything.  
  
I need ideas for this story, too. Any help would be appreciated, and I will thank all those who offer it at the beginning/end of the next chapter. . . . whether or not I use the idea.  
  
And yes, I have gone back to making up my own words. Most of the time the meaning is clear, so it should be fine. Just remember, Shay didn't exactly receive a first-rate education. . . . . . ^^;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own YGO or Battosei. I only own Shay. Wish I owned a talking computer, though. Minus the attitude problems.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
My life, or life after death, or whatever, returned to its normal, boring pace after the whole dodanko thing. I went back to wandering the house, especially the basement.  
  
Due to the lack of things to do, I discovered something, or more rather someone, that Kaiba had probably hoped I'd never meet.  
  
So it's partially Kaiba's fault for not giving me something to do during the day.  
  
Just thought I'd clear that up.  
  
The basement is actually split in half by a wall. I saw the well-hidden door and decided to investigate.  
  
I floated through the wall and found myself in a large room made to look a lot smaller by the huge computer in it. High-tech room. Better than Kaiba's office upstairs.  
  
The office upstairs is for business, I figured. This is the beauty that does all the fun, albeit highly illegal, stuff. Like hacking. Funny, I never figured Kaiba to be a hacker- or maybe that's just one of the many things he does, and it pales in comparison.  
  
Well, it explains why he's got to hide it. Or shove it into a corner of the basement and hide the door.  
  
I wandered over and looked up at the screen. I was floating about a foot above the ground, yet I had to look UP to see the screen.  
  
The screen was blank, just totally blue. Some numbers were flickering in the top left corner, but I ignored them.  
  
The room was bare and dark, with only the computer. I frowned as I looked around.  
  
Nothing. The guy practically lives down here, yet there's no clue that anyone has ever been in here.  
  
"Who's there?!"  
  
Given my previous reactions to these sort of situations, I think I reacted well. I managed to keep from yelling, but it did take a bit of mental effort to pry myself off the ceiling.  
  
I looked around, panicked, but saw no one. I sighed and rested my head against the palm of my hand. Just my imagination. Or so I thought.  
  
"Hey, you can fly?"  
  
This time I did yell. And this time I didn't come down off the ceiling. I was more interested in finding who was speaking to me. It was a female voice, one I'd never heard before.  
  
"Hey, you can come down. I'm not gonna hurt you."  
  
I looked around suspiciously. Nothing. No one. Just the computer. Maybe something like an intercom?  
  
"You're looking right at me," the voice continued. I scowled and looked closer.  
  
The words that had been said by the mysterious person were written on the computer screen.  
  
"Waddya know," I muttered. "A talking computer."  
  
"Ten points to the bright lad on the ceiling. Now, would you mind getting down?"  
  
If I could blush, I probably would have right then.  
  
"You must be the ghost Master has been talking about," she mused as I floated down. I blinked and frowned.  
  
"Who?"  
  
"You. Ghost. Shay, right?"  
  
I decided to ignore her sarcasm and take the words at face value.  
  
"No, no, no. You said Master."  
  
"Kaiba. Seto Kaiba. Ever met him? No?" she added before I could so much as open my mouth again. "Funny, because he talks about you a lot."  
  
And I'll bet anything none of what he has to say is very flattering.  
  
"He built you?" I asked. She made a positive humming noise. "He built this entire. . . . room?" Again with the hum. I looked around, amazed.  
  
My opinion of Seto Kaiba just went up about three notches.  
  
"You know, you're somewhat famous in here," the computer said, snapping me out of my reverie.  
  
"I am? Why?"  
  
"Took us, Kaiba and me, three hours to find that info on you. Three hours," she repeated. "That's a new record. Normally it only takes an hour at the most."  
  
For three hours, Kaiba searched for all info on me. I don't know whether to be flattered or insulted- it could be that he actually cared, or maybe he just thought helping me find out who I was would get me out of his house all the sooner.  
  
"He also told me to warn him if you ever came down here, but I won't. You're too amusing."  
  
Now that was a flat-out insult, but I ignored it.  
  
"Warn him? How? He's in school."  
  
"I've got his cell phone number."  
  
He carries a cell phone around with him at all times in case I happen to wander across his precious, insultive computer. Gotta love his faith in me.  
  
"So, you can call him up and drag him out of school? What's he gonna say to his teacher? 'Sorry, my household ghost found my illegal computer in the basement and I have to make sure he doesn't destroy anything.'?"  
  
"Actually, he won't say sorry."  
  
"That's right. The bastard's never said sorry, has he?"  
  
"In all reality, he won't say much of anything. He'll just walk out. He's Seto Kaiba; he's allowed to do that."  
  
"He can randomly walk out of school without saying a word? All it takes is one phone call? And they say money can't buy happiness."  
  
"They don't care if he's got all the money in the world. They're more worried about what he and his company can and might do to them if they annoy him."  
  
"What? Buy the school and start selling real food at lunch? Make the janitors clean out the garbage cans more than once a month? Actually pay the teachers the salary they deserve? It's a school, it's public-owned. Kaiba couldn't touch it even with all the power in the world."  
  
She processed this in relative silence. Then,  
  
"You don't know Seto Kaiba very well, do you? If you think he'll actually-- -"  
  
"I know him better than any normal person should ever want to know him. I've seen more than---- NO!!!!"  
  
"You've seen more of what? Kaiba?"  
  
"I can't hear you, I can't hear you, la la la." I covered my ears with both hands.  
  
"How'd you do that? Walk in on him during a bath?"  
  
"I can't hear you, I can't hear you!!!!"  
  
"While he was asleep?"  
  
"I CANNOT HEAR YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"  
  
"Bingo," she muttered triumphantly. "So how big----"  
  
"You can stop right there, or I pull the plug," I said evenly, the power cord in my hand. She shut up.  
  
"Where is the goddamn mute button?" I asked myself as I studied the console. Lots of buttons, lots of shapes, lots of colors. No labels. Of course.  
  
"What would happen if I started randomly pushing buttons?"  
  
"You'd have about three minutes, cause I just called Kaiba."  
  
"A blackout in Hollywood, a deadly virus spread to every computer in current existence, an earthquake in Switzerland, and every last drop of money transferred to one Bob Joe Smith's account," I muttered.  
  
"Now, hold on there. I think you're overestimating me a bit much."  
  
"Toilets in Paris all suddenly back up, every left shoe in the country of Canada bursts into flame, and all the cockroaches in the world do the Macarena before taking a swim to Antarctica."  
  
"Now I KNOW you're giving me way too much credit."  
  
"Random doctors in the middle of surgery suddenly decide to act like ducks, all cats start chasing dogs, every tuna fish does a Jaws impression, and the plagues of Egypt suddenly return and cast themselves upon everybody whose last name begins and ends with 'Q'."  
  
"You have serious problems in the head. Did you know that? Several of them."  
  
"And after all that, I still have two minutes left."  
  
"KAIBA!!!!! HURRY UP!!!!!! I DON'T WANNA BE ALONE WITH HIM ANYMORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!"  
  
"Let's see. . . . . ." I muttered. Picked a bright blue triangle and pressed it.  
  
Nothing happened.  
  
"I LEARNED MY LESSON!!!!!! HEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"  
  
"There went all the left shoes," I announced with a grin. Red circle. I pushed it.  
  
The lights in the room went on, then right back off again. They repeated this several times. I felt like I was standing right under lightning flashes.  
  
"And the blackout in Hollywood," I said. "We need the power here, just to mess with the lights." Another button. I pushed it.  
  
The computer, who had been howling for her master, suddenly went silent.  
  
"That must have been the computer virus. I guess you got it too."  
  
On screen, covering most of the blue, rolled two alternating words:  
  
KAIBA!!!!!!! HELP!!!!!!!!! KAIBA!!!!!!! HELP!!!!!!!!!  
  
Three more buttons, two of which had no effect. The one that did set off some sort of music. It was picking up a radio station.  
  
"The cockroaches are now doing the Macarena, the plagues of Egypt have returned, there went all the money in the world to that lucky bastard Bob Joe Smith."  
  
I saw a purple button, reached over to push it.  
  
A pair of very strong hands grabbed me by the back of my shirt and hauled me away from the computer. I had enough time to squawk in surprise before I was slammed into the ground and pinned there by a foot.  
  
Kaiba kept his foot on me as he leaned over and unpushed all of the buttons I'd pushed.  
  
"Aren't you supposed to be swimming to Antarctica right now?" I asked, then blinked. He was soaking wet. "Or did you already try?"  
  
Kaiba was mad, I could see it. He was shaking from repressed anger, and being soaked to the bone probably didn't help.  
  
He kneeled down next to me, replaced his foot with his elbow, and dropped his face next to mine.  
  
"Never come down here again."  
  
"What'd I do?"  
  
"Literally?" he asked. I nodded. "You had the gates opening and closing, the sprinklers had exploded and were spraying water everywhere, and you turned on the disco lights. My front lawn is now just about any and every color in the rainbow."  
  
"You have disco lights?"  
  
"Mokuba's doing, I'm sure, because last I checked, we didn't. And that purple button you were about to push would have caused a power blackout within a ten-mile radius."  
  
"In Hollywood?"  
  
"No. Here."  
  
He couldn't have been as mad as I thought. In fact, he was almost smiling.  
  
"Sorry," I tried.  
  
"Just. . . . . out," he ordered.  
  
I floated through the ceiling, but I could still hear it when he finally burst out laughing. 


	37. Yes or No

Flame: Yes, last chapter was long. Sorry, this one won't be. XD  
  
Dancer: Owie. I found out yesterday that I probably should've gotten stitches for my hand. It was kinda deep, and I kinda knew it was bad, but. . . . .  
  
Flame: Anyway, thanks to the people who've responded! I'll go on at the end of the chapter, kk?  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own YGO or Battosei. I only own Shay.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
The phone had been ringing for about three minutes before I gave up and picked it up.  
  
It had been about four hours, and school had ended ten minutes ago. Kaiba hadn't left. He hadn't come upstairs yet. The lawn was still composed of rainbow lights, a few of sprinklers had yet to stop dousing the grass. The gates were closed and staying that way, at least.  
  
"Hello," I asked, looking out the window to see if Kaiba was making any progress in his quest to undo my three minutes of fame.  
  
"Shay? Is Kaiba there?"  
  
"Hey, Yugi. Yeah, he's here, but. . . . He's downstairs, working with the talking supercomputer to undo what I did when I started randomly pushing buttons in the space of three minutes."  
  
Silence.  
  
"Is that why he had to leave early?"  
  
"Yep."  
  
"Yami advised that I not ask for details. He says the mental imagery is amusing enough."  
  
"Shay says Yami can go screw himself."  
  
"Yami says no thank you."  
  
We could have kept this up for hours, tossing insults at each other and using Yugi as a mediator, but a small explosion from outside cut our conversation short. I said goodbye and hung up the phone, then darted through the wall.  
  
All forty-eight disco lights had exploded.  
  
Mokuba appeared next to where I was carefully avoiding the crazed sprinklers. After a few moments, Kaiba walked up behind us.  
  
"Where did the disco lights come from?" he asked mildly. Mokuba opened his mouth to answer, stopped.  
  
"Dun look at me," I ordered. "I don't deal with salespeople. They can't see me half the time. When there's two of 'em, and one can see me but the other can't, well, to say the least, we've got problems."  
  
Kaiba directed his gaze to Mokuba, who let out a weak laugh.  
  
Found the culprit.  
  
"They weren't expensive," Mokuba said, jumping to defense before Kaiba could so much as blink.  
  
"To the two a' you, nothing should be expensive," I muttered.  
  
Ignored. Again. I expected that.  
  
"It's not how much they cost, it's the fact that I've now got broken glass all over my lawn," Kaiba explained. "And the fact that, if someone else saw them before I did, they'd think I'd lost it."  
  
"Finally," I added. A smile from Mokuba and a scowl from Kaiba was all I received before the older brother continued.  
  
"I just want to know how you hooked it up to my computer."  
  
"Well. . . . . ."  
  
I sensed that this was a bad moment and beat it back into the house.  
  
Yugi called again, requesting this time to know what had happened. Judging by the background noises, I'd say Joey had a good time laughing. I didn't know if he was laughing at me or with me, or both. I decided to go with my better judgment and not ask.  
  
Kaiba came in and, when I told him who I was talking to, he took the phone away. Actually, he lunged at it, and I dropped it and got out of the way.  
  
I don't really know if killing your household ghost is a crime of any sort, seeing as I'm already dead, but at the rate he was going, Kaiba was gonna learn soon.  
  
"You didn't hurt Mokuba, did you?" I asked when I realized the young one had yet to return. Ever his graceful self, Kaiba snorted.  
  
"He's my little brother, the only family I have," he sneered. "What do you think?"  
  
"Should I've called the hospital 'stead?"  
  
He gave me a really poisonous look.  
  
Okay. Forget that.  
  
"One last question. Were you laughing?" He glared at me for a long moment, eyes narrowed. I backed up somewhat, but didn't leave.  
  
"Iza yes or no question, Kaiba. 'Death-glare-at-the-Shay' isn't an option."  
  
What he said could be considered a yes or a no. I grinned and left while I was ahead.  
  
Time to see what poor Mokuba had gotten stuck doing.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Flame: Short chapter, I know, but. . . . . .  
  
Dancer: Professor Plum, in the kitchen, with the rope!  
  
Flame: Wrong. Flame, in the computer room, with the emsod if you don't put a sock in it.  
  
TY to:  
  
NeoChaosCrystal------- TY for the idea, I might actually use it. I can just imagine Shay's reaction to a dog. . . . hell, I can imagine Kaiba's! This ought to be good. . . . . ::wanders off to think, but bounces back for the next one::  
  
VB--------- I know, I don't want yaoi either, but. . . . . it's an option. It's tied so far, so I need more opinions! And saying it three million times won't count as more than one. Sorry. ^^;;;;;;;;;;;;;  
  
Alana-------- Sorry I haven't fit you in yet, it's very hard when I've got ::gasp:: writer's block. Eh heh. Sorry. Anyway, TY for the idea. I'll consider it, Shay seems to like to torture people with his ::ahem:: singing skills (if you can call them that). TY again for being patient!!!  
  
Ameba-Chan-------- New person joining the insanity. . . . . tis goodness! Nyway, of course you can hug Shay! Everybody can!!! ::watches as Dancer tackles Shay:: Well . . . . cept her. . . . . DANCER!!! ::runs over and pulls her hikari off the ghost::  
  
And you have biology! Ha ha ha! I took that two years ago, and I fell asleep almost every day. Then again, all we did was watch videos and do worksheets, so . . . . Heh heh. Not as bad as Chemistry. 


	38. Wiggie

Dancer: ::is sitting on the bed behind Flame with a sign around her neck:: sign says: Is Easily Distracted By Bright, Shiny Objects, Including Computer  
  
Flame: I hate her, I hate her, I really really hate her. . . . . .  
  
Shay: ::randomly popping out of nowhere:: isn't it bad for a yami to hate her hikari?  
  
Flame: Not this yami.  
  
I GOT OVER A HUNDRED REVIEWS!!!!!! THANK YOU TO ALL!!!!! ::runs around hugging reviewers::  
  
Shay: Uh. . . . yeah. . . . ::grabs Flame and pulls her away before she accidentally strangles someone::  
  
Flame: Lemme go! I wasn't gonna hurt them, I promise!  
  
Shay: It's not pain I'm worried about, it's what'll happen to me if another ghost comes into the picture. . . . and you're gonna kill someone if you don't calm down.  
  
Flame: Phooey. Anyway, TY again to NeoChaosCrystal for this idea.  
  
And Ameba-Chan? Next chapter, I promise. . . . too many ideas, too little time!!!  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own YGO. I only own Shay. And the idea for Wiggie. Wish I owned her, but. . . . .  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
I'm not sure what Mokuba was supposed to be doing, but I know he wasn't doing it.  
  
"Good lord," I said as I floated over to him. "It's a four-legged red-head wig."  
  
Mokuba was standing next to a large red dog. The dog's shoulders came even at my waist. Its fur was long and dark red, silky and shiny and gave me the near-irrepressible desire to pet the thing bald. The tail, fur streaming from it like a banner, rose at my approach and went from side to side. The muzzle opened to reveal a pink tongue that lolled to one side as the dog regarded me with dark brown eyes.  
  
"Isn't she gorgeous?"  
  
Elegant was the word that came to my mind. So did the word wig. I couldn't seem to get rid of it.  
  
"Yeah, she's lovely," I answered warily. That tail was going about two hundred miles per second. Her rear end followed the movement, and even her ears were flopping a little bit.  
  
"Now, just go give her back to her owner---"  
  
"She doesn't have one."  
  
I should have sensed trouble right then and there. But no, I was naïve and trusted Mokuba.  
  
"Well, I s'pose she can stay for a while," I mused, "but you talk to Kaiba 'bout keepin' her around."  
  
Like he would.  
  
He nodded, probably just to get me to leave, and I turned.  
  
WHAM.  
  
Two large paws hit me in the back, just below my shoulder blades, and I was suddenly one with the grass as the dog licked my face.  
  
"GET OFF!!!"  
  
Mokuba stared as I managed to roll over and force the dog away from me. She barked and dropped her front end, tail still high in the air. She looked like she was bowing.  
  
I recognized it and refused to play her game.  
  
"No." I snapped. "Now go bother Mokuba."  
  
She sat and stared at me with those wistful, soul-touching eyes, and I found myself being pulled in.  
  
"No!!! Stoppit!!!" I lunged away, ignoring the fact that I went through her even though she'd been able to touch me.  
  
"What's wrong?" Mokuba asked, looking up at me.  
  
"Waddya mean, what's wrong? Nothing's wrong, everything's PERFECT---"  
  
"Well, you don't normally jump into the tree and hug the branch for nothing."  
  
"Damn dog is way too good at begging."  
  
Mokuba laughed.  
  
"You're scared of my dog just because she can beg?"  
  
Note the use of 'my'. I didn't.  
  
"Yes! No! I'm not scared of any stupid old dog, it's her eyes! She can touch me! She can LICK me!" So saying, I wiped the drool off my cheek with the palm of my hand. "She looks like a carrot-top wig, for crying out loud! And you know Kaiba won't have her anywhere NEAR his house-------"  
  
Damn those begging eyes. I was getting full-blast from both of them by now. One wanted attention and someone to tackle without breaking said person's bones (what bones? Do ghosts even have bones? If I do, wouldn't they get stuck when I tried to go through a wall?). The other, I couldn't tell what he wanted until I mentally rewound the conversation and played it again.  
  
"Wait. . . . . . YOUR dog? You're not going to keep her! You can't! She belongs to someone, I c'n promise ya! Irish Setters're expensive, 'specially one so well-trained! Kaiba won' let ya keep 'er, I ain't gonna let ya keep'er, she ain't gonna stick 'round fer long, and WHAT're ya laughin' at?"  
  
"You," Mokuba gasped. "The more you yelled, the more your grammar slipped. You sound like you're a Southerner from the States."  
  
I opened my mouth, then snapped it shut. If there was truly a change like that, I hadn't noticed it.  
  
"Anyway," Mokuba added as he turned to face the dog, "I'm not going to tell my brother, and neither are you!"  
  
I blinked at him, still trying to figure out the whole Southern-accent thing. Get a grip, Shay, that conversation ended thirty seconds ago, you're centuries behind now.  
  
Still, me being a wise and tactful person, the next comment slipped out before I could put proper thought into it.  
  
"Neither am I? Or what? You can't do anything to me."  
  
No words were necessary. All he had to do was hold up the garden hose that had been resting by his foot.  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Yeah," Mokuba answered. He turned to look at the lawn, and I looked at the dog.  
  
"Wig," I muttered. "You're a walkin' wig."  
  
The tail started to wag again.  
  
"Wig," I repeated. The tail went faster. "Wig. . . . wig. . . . . Wiggie?"  
  
She barked. I grinned.  
  
"Wiggie it is, then!"  
  
"Hmm?" Mokuba looked at me. I pointed at Wiggie.  
  
"Wiggie." I announced. She barked. Mokuba looked at me, then Wiggie.  
  
"What?"  
  
"For such a bright kid, you're takin' a long time to catch on," I muttered.  
  
"Wiggie? He repeated dubiously (A/N: Vocab word! See, I DO use English! ::sticks her tongue out at Ms. Smith::) "Her name is Wiggie?"  
  
"Listen, kid. If I'm gonna help you keep this hairdo-wannabe around, I reserve the right to name her. Her name is Wiggie."  
  
"Well, at least it'll take about three minutes longer for Seto to tell us to get her out," Mokuba muttered. "He'll have to laugh first."  
  
I grinned and dropped from the tree.  
  
"All right, Wiggie, Mokuba, I'm headin' back up to the house to see if Kaiba needs any help. The computer was telling him he'd gotten a fatal error and was playing dead with the 'X' eyes and everything two minutes ago. . . . ."  
  
Mokuba laughed, and I grinned. Turned to leave.  
  
Sharp teeth grabbed the bottom of my shirt and pulled, causing me to slip and fall over backwards, through Wiggie and somewhat through the ground.  
  
Mokuba laughed even harder, and after I'd gotten done cursing the dog, I stood and floated about ten feet off the ground before attempting to leave again.  
  
"Come to think of it," I muttered as I floated into the living room, "I don't want to be the one to tell Kaiba he's got a pet---"  
  
"I'll deal with it; I live with you."  
  
I spun around and found the devil himself sitting on the couch.  
  
Uh oh.  
  
"Now, what was this about not telling me I've got a pet?"  
  
"Ummmmm. . . . ."  
  
Shit.  
  
How much does Seto Kaiba like, or hate as my luck goes, dogs?  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Flame: I love being an authoress. The power of cliffhangers are wonderful... ::insert evil laughter here::  
  
Anyway, I received a review that was requested to be posted in my next chapter. . . . if that made sense. . . .  
  
~*~ Raven Scorne  
  
Hello insane ppls. It is I the great... *looks at scripts* I"M NOT SAYING THAT!  
  
Farren: *snickers* it's your job, or you won't get paid!  
  
Raven: NO WAY! It was a good story and a lot of laughs but I'm not going to ruin my reputation!  
  
Farren: I'll double...  
  
Raven: gr... it is I the great hooker of doom... fear me... blah. It takes your sick mind to write this script...  
  
Farren: I love being the sadistic and weird Yami.  
  
Raven: you also forgot insolent and rude and arrogant and selfish...  
  
Farren: stop being cynical!  
  
Raven: Sorry... it's just out of habit. *sticks out tongue*  
  
Farren: Urusei.  
  
~*~  
  
Anyway, R&R please!!!! I LUVS YOU ALLS!!!!! 


	39. A Normal Conversation

Flame: Ugh. I wrote this after finishing the chapter. It's looong. Eleven pages in Word and 2,415 words. This is the longest chapter I've written, not counting the bloopers.  
  
Dancer: Not counting. Counting. Bloopers. Purpose. Same difference. Original copy. Living dead. Eyes wide open.  
  
Flame: Don't ask me, she got really hyper somewhere along the way. Not too much to say here, besides what I said. Have fun laughing at Shay's lack of social grace.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own YGO or Battosei. I only own Shay, and the idea for Wiggie.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
How do you describe Kaiba?  
  
For me, he's a wolf. He acts like one, for heaven's sake. Contrary to popular belief in this house, he IS a predator. Nothing gets by him. And right then, he smelled trouble.  
  
Or maybe he smelled Wiggie on me. Who knows.  
  
Whatever the case was, he was on his feet and a hand was, almost casually, on my shoulder. I say almost, because casual doesn't normally imply cutting off the flow of blood to my arm, if I had a blood flow. Casual does not imply, at least by my definition, an attempt to break every bone in his hand and my shoulder because of the pressure.  
  
Maybe it's just me.  
  
I was under the impression that he didn't want me going anywhere until I told him precisely what I meant by that 'tell Kaiba he's got a pet' comment.  
  
I knew better than to try to run. Kaiba was too fast, and besides, he had a death grip on my arm. My arm is kind of vital to me, I wasn't about to leave it behind.  
  
"What did you mean by that?" he asked, all seriousness now.  
  
"Ummmm. . . . . HEY!"  
  
I went face-first through the door. The second I got a hold of myself, I looked up and yelled to Mokuba.  
  
"Run fer it, kid, he knows 'bout Wiggie!"  
  
Lucky for me Mokuba decided not to ask questions. He just went pale, dropped the hose, and did as I suggested. Wiggie ran after him, jumping on his heels and barking excitedly.  
  
Kaiba, being restrained to normal movement, had to cross the room and open the door, so Mokuba had about three seconds. To my surprise, he reached the garage before his older brother came out.  
  
Kaiba glanced around, then looked at me.  
  
"So sorry," I said triumphantly. "Guess I was wrong about that."  
  
I made as if to go back inside, but Kaiba grabbed my arm again. I spun around, determined to tell him off, but he wasn't even looking at me. When I opened my mouth, he shot me a lightning-fast glare.  
  
A door quite audibly closed in the distance.  
  
"The garage," he muttered.  
  
"Ummm. . . . . . can you---"  
  
"No."  
  
And so we set off, across the lawn, and I had to float in order to keep from sponging up the water that lay in huge pools here and there.  
  
I really, really wanted him to let go, but after that tone, I was going to make myself one with the air and not get his attention at all. It occurred to me, almost offhandedly, that this would look extremely odd to someone who couldn't see me. Seto Kaiba, walking across his front yard, holding his hand up like he was at school and trying to get a teacher's attention.  
  
Or like he was holding the hand of someone who was floating directly above him.  
  
Just the thought made me want to gag.  
  
We stopped at the door. Correction: Kaiba stopped. I floated into him, and he was suddenly much closer to the door- and I was closer to him- than expected. Or desired. I'm sure the door didn't like the sudden closeness, but I didn't like the flush that spread over Kaiba's face. It was gone in a heartbeat, but I suddenly realized how much stronger than me he was.  
  
In about half a second, both of us were sitting on the grass.  
  
I'd tried to jerk away, but he'd tightened his grip, and the result was that I pulled him over backwards and was snapped back myself. We wound up back-to-back, both of us becoming thoroughly soaked before we could get up again.  
  
I spun around, my mind set on prying his hand off and running for safety and sanity, but Kaiba turned around a second too soon.  
  
I'd forgotten about how slow I am when I get wet. I'd forgotten how hard it was to control my muscles, and I'd forgotten how momentum was my worst enemy.  
  
My fist missed his nose by about a quarter of a millimeter, hitting his cheek instead.  
  
Those two seconds were the longest I've ever lived.  
  
He reeled backward, his shoulder blades hitting the door, and one hand instinctively went up to his face, searching for blood. However, as soon as the shock faded, pure fury replaced it.  
  
I didn't stick around to see if it was me he was mad at, or if he'd heard Wiggie bark in the garage behind him. The second he'd looked at me, the world had returned to real time, and I was outta there.  
  
Not quickly, mind you, but momentum worked for me. Once I got going, I couldn't seem to stop.  
  
It took a bit of work to point myself back towards the mansion, since my straight line was leading me away from it at a thirty degree angle. I managed to make it down to the basement without incident.  
  
No Kaiba yet.  
  
Ten minutes later, as I was wringing out my shirt- water seems to diffuse through me instead of staying in the place that made contact with the liquid- I heard the elevator ding. I glanced up, swore when I saw that it was heading without fail towards the "B".  
  
And me without my shirt on.  
  
Deciding not to give Kaiba more ammo, I swung myself through the wall. The computer squawked at my appearance, but I ignored her. Pulling my shirt wet shirt on was an adventure, but I managed at about three seconds before the door opened.  
  
No way Kaiba could've dealt with Mokuba and Wiggie in ten minutes. He's smart, and he knows how to work that kid, but nobody's that good. He'd probably given himself a few minutes just to decide how to deal with me.  
  
The real question was, did he know I saw him blush? Even better, if he did know, then did he think my punching him was on purpose?  
  
Leave it to my overactive imagination to create worse-case scenarios.  
  
It was Mokuba.  
  
I sighed with relief, but he gave me a dark look.  
  
"What's wrong?" I asked, unable to grasp the concept that other people, besides me, may have problems right then.  
  
"He said he wants to talk to both of us." The look vanished, and a grin replaced it. "He's got a bruise on one side of his face, and he yelled at me when I asked him about it. I figured you knew about it."  
  
I nodded. Bruise. Fantastic. One more reason for Kaiba to hate me.  
  
"Thanks for trying," he added. I blinked, then remembered how I'd given him the warning.  
  
"You're welcome," I answered.  
  
We came out of the house and found Wiggie and Battosei playing. Battosei would throw a tennis ball across the lawn, and Wiggie would charge after it, barking and tail wagging the entire way.  
  
Kaiba stood next to Battosei, looking extremely irritated.  
  
"We've got another supporter," I muttered.  
  
"Of course. Wiggie's an Irish Setter, Battosei's a girl. Girls love Irish Setters. They think they're cute."  
  
"The dog thinks the girl is cute?" I was purposely being difficult. Mokuba ignored me, so I assumed he knew it.  
  
"You think the girl is cute?" he asked suddenly, slyly. I snorted.  
  
"I think she's got a yami. Scratch that- I think she's got two. Answer that yourself."  
  
"Cute has nothing to do with attitude. Or yami's."  
  
Notice how he took the three-Battosei thing pretty easily. I'm not the only one who pays attention to the new sword-happy, silver-crazy maid.  
  
"Well. . . . . . ."  
  
"Is that a yes?" he challenged.  
  
"No!!!!"  
  
"No, she's not cute? I'll have to tell her you said that," he said in a resigned tone.  
  
"I didn't say she's not cute!"  
  
"Now you're saying she is?"  
  
"No, I'm----"  
  
"Now she's not," he muttered. "I think you're confused. Do you even understand your own emotions?"  
  
"Well, now that you mention it, Dr. Freud, I'm feeling this really funny boiling right here-" I tapped my chest, "that makes me feel an awful lot like hitting a certain ten-year-old right now."  
  
Mokuba laughed, but inched away as he did so.  
  
We reached Kaiba, who glared at me for a second before Wiggie suddenly dropped a well-chewed, slobbered-on tennis ball on Kaiba's left foot.  
  
Mokuba picked it up and threw it as far as he could. Wiggie spun around and charged after it.  
  
Battosei walked over and grinned at her employer.  
  
"I think she's adorable," she announced.  
  
"So give the dog a medal. See if I care." Kaiba shot back.  
  
"I was right," Mokuba tossed triumphantly at me. I shook my head.  
  
"Nuh-uh. You said girls think dogs are CUTE. Nikki said ADORABLE."  
  
"Nikki?" Mokuba echoed, confused. However, nobody heard him over the female in question.  
  
"Cute, adorable, same difference. We're not getting rid of her."  
  
"Nikki?!" the kid repeatedly, firmly and trying to get an answer. Bad timing again, as I addressed Battosei at the same exact second.  
  
"There is a difference. And 'sides, it's Kaiba's choice as to whether we keep the walkin' shag rug or not."  
  
"Nikki???!!!"  
  
"Damn right it's my choice," Kaiba spat, his voice easily overrunning Mokuba's. "And if I had a choice, I'd get rid of all of you."  
  
"NIKKI???!!!"  
  
"WHAT!!!" Battosei yelled back.  
  
Mokuba stared at her, mouth open.  
  
"Your name is Nikki?" he asked after a moment.  
  
"Yes, but I prefer Battosei. Why?"  
  
"Shay called you Nikki a second ago."  
  
"Actually," I interrupted in my best nonchalant tone, "it was more like three minutes ago."  
  
"Yeah, well, maybe if you grown-ups wouldn't ignore me--- what are you laughing at???!!!"  
  
Battosei and I were laughing. Kaiba was too pissed about the Wiggie thing to join us.  
  
"Grown-ups? Us?" Battosei managed after a few seconds. "How old do people have to be to be grown up?"  
  
"It's more a question of maturity," Kaiba said in a tone that could curdle milk.  
  
We ignored him. It was a good feeling, being able to tune Kaiba out for the first time when he's done it to me a few thousand times.  
  
"So, he called me Nikki?" Battosei asked, looking at me.  
  
"Yeah. I don't remember what he said, though."  
  
She shrugged, turned away from both of us.  
  
"It's better than most guys his age," she said. "Most of them have problems remembering the names of any girl they meet and make up for it by calling us 'Babe' or 'Honey' or something like that."  
  
"You sound disappointed," I grinned. "Should I start calling you Babe?"  
  
"You do, and I'll find a way to slice you into ribbons," she growled over her shoulder.  
  
Kaiba, who looked like he was having the time of his life, was letting us snap at each other for amusement's sake. However, the reason for this little meeting came rushing back to him in the form of a tennis ball and a suddenly slobber-coated right shoe.  
  
The tennis ball hit Mokuba in the back of the head. The kid yelped and spun around, but he wasn't fast enough. Wiggie tackled him, chasing the ball. I picked it up and threw it, causing the dog to run off to Kingdom Come again.  
  
"Why," Kaiba said in a dangerously calm voice, "do we have a dog running around the front yard?"  
  
I pointed to Mokuba instinctively. He shot me a dirty look.  
  
Kaiba glared at his little brother, then me. He really did have a bruise, I saw. It was small and right over his cheekbone, but I had no doubt that by morning, it would be about the size of my fist and hurt like hell.  
  
I shifted my gaze. Best not give him something else to be mad at. About. For. Whatever.  
  
"She was carrying around that tennis ball and came over to me when I was cleaning the yard," Mokuba said. "So I decided to keep her."  
  
"She wandered over to you, so you decided she was yours," I reviewed. Mokuba nodded.  
  
"You wandered over to me, so I get to hit you." I said. This time, Mokuba scowled.  
  
"No," he snapped, "but-"  
  
"It's entirely the same concept," Kaiba interrupted. "She has an owner somewhere, she just ran away."  
  
Mokuba shot me another poisonous look. Personally, I'd said that simply to be annoying. I hadn't expected Kaiba to make an argument out of it.  
  
"We're not getting a dog," Kaiba snapped. "Or keeping one. We've got enough troubles without one. We can't even get rid of the last beggar we picked up."  
  
That last part was accompanied by a glare at me.  
  
I ignored it. It still felt good to be able to ignore Seto Kaiba.  
  
"Shay is not a beggar," Battosei responded evenly. "He doesn't need food, he doesn't need a place to sleep, he doesn't need money, he doesn't need a change of clothes every day. In fact, you seem to be the beggar for him- always asking him not to break something, not to say something, not to do something, not to break something."  
  
"You said break something twice," I informed her.  
  
"That's because it's what you're most inclined to do."  
  
"Very funny."  
  
"I've never asked him to do any of those things," Kaiba said.  
  
"Tell him or ask him, it still puts you in the same position," Battosei countered.  
  
"What does this have to do with the dog?"  
  
"Wiggie," all three of us answered Kaiba's question at the same time.  
  
"Wiggie, then," he snarled. "What does this have to do with Wiggie?" he scowled, added, "And what kind of moron would name a dog Wiggie?"  
  
We didn't have to answer. He looked at me the second he'd finished the question.  
  
Why am I so predictable?  
  
"See if you can find her owner," Kaiba ordered a second later. "If so, give her back. If not, she destroys ANYTHING, and all three of your heads will be on display and I'll lock you-" this being said to me, "in the freezer. Got it?"  
  
"We can keep her?" Mokuba asked, eyes wide and excitement in his voice.  
  
Kaiba made an annoyed hissing noise before turning and walking back up to the house.  
  
"WE CAN KEEP HER!" Mokuba cheered. Half a second later, he was eye-to- blade with the grass, a direct result of Wiggie running into the back of his legs. Banner-like tail wagging, she barked as he sat up.  
  
I groaned.  
  
"I'm looking forward to it." 


	40. Restraining Order

Flame: Ah, yes. The next chapter in the Wiggie saga. . . . . and believe it or not, there is an alternative ending to this. A yaoi-ish ending, specially requested by AngelStarFire. She has her fic about Shay up (again), and it's majorly yaoi, so. . . . . your choice. E-mail me if you want the other ending.  
  
Dancer: ::pokes Flame with a pen, leaving a blue mark over the black mark from the earlier marker::  
  
Flame: ::takes the pen and every other writing utensil within reach and throws them all out the window::  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own YGO or Battosei. Battosei belongs to herself. Shay belongs to me, though. Muahahahahaha.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
There was one catch to Kaiba's promise:  
  
We had to make an effort to find Wiggie's owner. Not just pretend, not just go through the motions, but actually try to find this person.  
  
Between being constantly attacked by the dog (who derives amusement out of pushing me through the floor and tried to do this to others as well), Mokuba's complaining that Wiggie's owner was going to be found, and Kaiba checking in every five minutes to make sure we were trying, I was quite rapidly getting tired of this three-ringed circus.  
  
Wisdom and a desire for sanity led me to an attempt to escape to the basement. As I said quite a while ago, if I'd just follow my instincts, I would be the most intelligent person around.  
  
As it was, I decided to stick around for a few more minutes to see how things were going and laugh when Mokuba got a drool-bath.  
  
We were in the kitchen, brainstorming. Translation: Battosei was doodling and petting Wiggie, Mokuba was hitting his fist against his forehead, and I was floating out of doggy reach and spouting random ideas. Whose side I was for was indeterminable and irrelevant; at least Battosei was laughing.  
  
Brainstorming, to these people, is hitting their head against a hard object, like Wiggie's head or the refrigerator, and praying for a storm so they could get a flash of inspiration.  
  
Battosei had drawn something that I couldn't see and I dropped for a closer look, once I was positive Wiggie was annoying Mokuba. However, both females saw my descent. The human turned the paper over and glared at me, the canine attacked.  
  
I forgot to go intangible and my head hit the edge of the counter.  
  
An burst of what felt incredibly like pain exploded through my skull, and I reeled. Once on the floor, all I could do was stare at the ceiling.  
  
Damn, but that had HURT!  
  
It wasn't quite pain; it vanished immediately and left me with a funny, tingling feeling, a lot like when I got too cold and couldn't move. It's like having your entire body fall asleep. For a ghost, however, it was different. I couldn't feel anything, not the floor below me, or Wiggie standing on my chest. I couldn't hear anything, not the damn dog barking or Mokuba saying my name.  
  
However, I could see, and I counted about eight little cartoon Wiggie's running in a circle around my field of vision. Four of them were chasing slobbery tennis balls, four of them were running from the tennis balls.  
  
I watched them go with mild curiosity. Honestly, I thought I was supposed to see stars.  
  
Someone grabbed my arm and pulled me off the floor.  
  
The sudden action broke my reverie, and as I looked around slowly, I heard Kaiba talking.  
  
"Are you all right?" Mokuba asked. He might have screamed it; I don't know. It was the barest of whispers to me. I glanced to my left and yelled.  
  
Three Seto Kaibas leered at me.  
  
"What's wrong?" they snapped.  
  
"There's three of you!"  
  
"He's fine," all three of the Seto's called over their shoulder. I watched, amazed. How did they move like that? All three did the same thing at the same time. I was on the verge of asking when they let go and promptly vanished from my view.  
  
I shook my head, hard. This time, when I opened my eyes, there was only one Seto Kaiba.  
  
That is a good thing. That is a very good thing. (A/N: No, not really, cause I don't share nice. . . . .)  
  
"What happened?" Mokuba asked, calmer now that he knew I wasn't going to vanish forever.  
  
I rubbed the back of my head, expecting a bump or a sore spot at least, but it was no different from before. There was no pain, or my imitation pain.  
  
"Yami says----"  
  
"He isn't here, is he?" I demanded. That spirit always seems to make things worst by telling me what could've happened. Or that he didn't think I could've done it.  
  
"No," Mokuba answered dryly, "but the phone is."  
  
"Do we have to bother him about every little weird thing I do?" I asked.  
  
"No, because he'd put a restraining order on us," Kaiba shot back. "We'd be calling him every ten seconds."  
  
I scowled at him, but honestly, I had to agree.  
  
"Yami says," Mokuba repeated, "that he hasn't the faintest idea what just happened to you."  
  
"He doesn't???!!!" I lunged at the phone. Mokuba jumped away, aiming for safety. I grabbed the phone, held it up, found myself talking into the wrong end. I straightened it, but not before Kaiba could smirk.  
  
"You don't know?" I repeated. Yami hesitated for a second, then sighed.  
  
"No. I don't."  
  
"You don't know everything! Now, if only we can get Kaiba to admit it. . . . ."  
  
Yami actually laughed.  
  
"If you do," he answered, "get it on tape or something, because that I have to hear."  
  
Yugi had to take the phone away from his yami to hang it up. Apparently, the all-powerful Pharaoh forgets about gravity on occasions and is reminded with the sound of the phone hitting the ground.  
  
"You're being awfully rude," Kaiba sneered. "Especially considering that you were fading away when I came in."  
  
I was fading away? No one had bothered to tell me this.  
  
I decided to be annoying and jumped on Kaiba, flinging my arms around his neck.  
  
"Oh, thank you, almighty savior! I am forever in your debt!"  
  
He gave me an evil look, then reached up and pulled my hands off.  
  
"Keep it to yourself," he ordered, then turned and walked out.  
  
I scowled after him.  
  
"Well," I muttered, "for someone who was complaining about me insulting him, he's not being very nice."  
  
Mokuba snorted.  
  
"I'm sorry about Wiggie attacking you," he said. "She likes you for some reason."  
  
"If that's what she does to show someone she likes them," I answered, "then I'd hate to see what she does when she hates them." 


	41. Medicine Cabinet

Flame: Hiya!!! I know, it's been a while, but. . . . . My sixteenth birthday is in a week!!!!! THE COUNTDOWN HAS BEGUN!!!!!! I get to terrorize all of KCK with my ::ahem:: driving!!!!  
  
Wolf Demon: And your point is? I knew that without your help. Besides, chapter 29 is one of my favorites, so lay off. If someone not wearing anything makes for a sick mind, then my mind should be dead from all the diseases it has. And if you've got a problem with Kaiba being gay, then you haven't really looked around ff.net, have you?  
  
The second chapter for the other ending is written. Was written. Long, long ago and far, far away. However, I suffered major writer's block for the main fic itself, so. . . . . DON'T HURT ME!!!!!! ::runs and hides::  
  
Disclaimer: If I owned YGO . . . ::ignores all the laughter from Shay:: Ok, so I don't own YGO ::ignores all the relieved sighs from the YGO characters:: WILL YOU ALL SHUT UP???!!! :: Silence. A cricket chirps after several seconds.:: I do not own YGO or Battosei. I only own Shay.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
As previously noted, not much effort was put into finding Wiggie's owner.  
  
Kaiba got tired of me hiding in random, canine-inaccessible rooms and ordered that Wiggie be put outside. After Mokuba complained that we'd never see the dog again (which is a bad thing why?), Kaiba had her tied to a tree.  
  
So now I had to go out about four times a day and make sure Wiggie didn't kill herself by running around the tree too many times and strangling. Good hints that she has are normally odd noises: hacking like she had laryngitis, making this really annoying high-pitched whimpering, or ear- shattering yelps of pain.  
  
Mokuba had the misfortune of coming home when she was hacking and convinced himself she had rabies and was about to die before I could so much as say 'hello, and 'scuse me while I keep your brainless dog from committing dog- slaughter'.  
  
Yeah. Dog-slaughter, like manslaughter, where you accidentally kill someone. I'm a riot. Bunch of hypocrites.  
  
Anyway, after that, Wiggie went to chained to a stake in the ground, so she could run around and around like a one-wheeled Energizer Bunny and I could avoid her. A happy Shay makes for a happier Kaiba. Not entirely happy, but happier, cause it means I'm not annoying him.  
  
However, as is inevitable, I got bored. And despite my never-go-in-Kaiba's- room-again credo, I got curious.  
  
Medicine cabinet + curious Shay + lack of insight and pulling this stunt ten minutes before Kaiba gets home from school =  
  
Biiiiiiiiig trouble.  
  
I caught myself wondering one day if Kaiba had a bathroom attached to his room. Like a hotel suite. The answer to the question of why I was thinking about that is a two-word answer: Extreme boredom.  
  
He had a bathroom, he had a sauna, and he had those pesky little mirror- covered medicine cabinets. I was surprised he didn't have his own little swimming pool so nobody would ever see him in anything less than three layers of clothing.  
  
I saw him in less than three layers of clothing. I saw him in nothing. We aren't going there.  
  
I say pesky mirror-covered medicine cabinets because mirrors are glass and I still have a major problem with glass. Opening it without touching the mirror was an adventure in itself, but I managed after about twenty minutes of cussing at it and hitting it with a tube of toothpaste.  
  
If I had a reflection, the second that cabinet opened, I would've seen something like three-times-too-big eyes, no nose, and a tiny dot for a mouth.  
  
He's rich. He can afford anything his heart desires. He can buy twenty thousand dollars- or whatever the hell the equivalent of it is in Japanese yen- worth of pointless, space-wasting bottles of impossible-to-pronounce- but-guaranteed-to-be-good-for-you pills.  
  
I picked up the first bottle, then watched as it oozed through my fingers and fall to the floor, as if I were made of slime instead of. . . . . well. . . . . . just instead.  
  
Me being easily amused and this being an entirely new experience, I was instantly preoccupied and going through Kaiba's medicine cabinet became the highlight of my day.  
  
Sad, isn't it?  
  
I couldn't help but wonder why for some of them. I also couldn't help but wonder why there weren't any happy pills. If anyone ever needed them. . . . . although I'm not saying that too loud, because I'm a major cause of that.  
  
Some made me stare. Some I didn't pick up. Some I refused to even look at. A few gave me insights into Kaiba's life that I really didn't need. But the rest all fell through my hand as if I'd dropped it into a bucket of pudding.  
  
I happened to glance at the clock- he's got three in there, by the way- and promptly panicked. Kaiba should already be home; I could hear Mokuba moving around downstairs, making his way to the back door.  
  
There was about three dozen bottles lying on the floor.  
  
And I couldn't pick the damn things up.  
  
Actually, I could, but I could only get them halfway up to the counter before they slid through my hand. No longer entertained by this, I was trying to get the medicine at least somewhere- the counter, so I could put them down and start again from there- and failing miserably.  
  
The first room Kaiba goes to when he gets home is his room. Normally he changes. Sometimes he even takes a shower. Whatever the case was, I wasn't going to be there, even if I had to leave the bottles all over the floor.  
  
The door opened.  
  
A bottle I had just picked up slid, fell, and hit the floor with a 'thud'.  
  
Kaiba stared at me. I stared back. We held this pose for about twenty seconds- the calm before the storm.  
  
I grinned weakly and dropped through the floor. Or, at least, I tried. He lunged forward, catching me by my shirt and hauling me back up.  
  
I squeaked. Literally squeaked. Ever squeezed a squeaky toy too hard?  
  
I couldn't make that high-pitched of a noise again, no matter how hard I try. Not that I try hard.  
  
The sound effects bought me a second, which I used to push his hand away and drop rapidly through the floor.  
  
I went straight through Mokuba, who yelped in surprise, and stopped in the basement.  
  
There, I stayed, panting although I didn't need to breath and waiting for the explosion.  
  
Nothing. Which is, in itself, much scarier than the actual encounter.  
  
As a second thought, I realized I should have at least had the foresight enough to steal Kaiba's basement card. But, me being myself, I had been more focused on repeatedly and fruitlessly trying to get the bottles into the cabinet.  
  
The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results each time. Personally, I think this fits stupidity as well.  
  
For hours, nothing happened. I heard Wiggie and Mokuba running around the living room, I heard a crash remotely like an expensive vase meeting its maker, I heard Kaiba tell Mokuba to play with Wiggie outside.  
  
Still, I was subscribed to a certain rule about then:  
  
If I ever come out of this basement again, it won't be of my own will. 


	42. A True American

Flame: Yes, I have a schedule all lined up. This chapter and one more, as well as a special treat, before my birthday. I am a glutton for punishment.  
  
Dancer: I'm being perfectly serious here.. ::snickers insanely::  
  
Flame: -.-;;; ::hits Dancer::  
  
Dancer: ::makes a sound like a VCR rewinding:: Sorry. Anyway, our loverly authoress ::points to the sky:: would like a word with you.  
  
Authoress: I'm gonna do a special chapter for my birthday... my present to you fruitcakes. I mean people. Shay decides to throw a party for Flame. How long will it take for everyone involved (which is everyone in the story so far, plus more. I can be bribed.) to recover? For poor Flame, the answer is quite a while...  
  
VB- You mind if I include you in my birthday special? Battosei would help Flame retain her sanity... she'd be very helpful to me, too.. Anyways...  
  
Alana: Guess what. I can fit you in!!! I FOUND YOUR NICHE!!!!!! Ahem. Anyways, just wanted to tell you... look for yourself. Boy, that sounded weird. You believe in ghosts, right?  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own YGO or Battosei. I own Shay, embarrassed as I am to say that. And before you can ask, I know the answer to all the questions Shay is asked.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
A basement can entertain a chronically bored ghost for only so long.  
  
Even if said basement has a supercomputer in it, it still gets boring.  
  
Despite my incident with Kaiba's medicine cabinet, I actually came upstairs within the week.  
  
And walked into the most embarrassing moment I can remember.  
  
I know I'm not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but at least I credited myself with being American enough to know my home country through and through.  
  
Ha. Ha ha ha. Ha ha ha ha ha. I now willingly admit that I am pathetic. And semi-American.  
  
Mokuba had his nose buried in a book when I came through the couch right next to him. Without so much as batting an eye, he grunted to acknowledge my presence. You know someone's used to you when you float up through the floor and the couch, and all they do is a half-hearted pig imitation.  
  
I looked at the book and found an all-too-familiar red, white, and blue flag plastered over both covers.  
  
"Studying America?"  
  
"For English, yeah," the kid answered, distracted. I scowled.  
  
Wasn't English for learning grammar and how to spell odd words like disestablishmentarianism? Or am I missing something else now?  
  
"We have to learn English in school," Mokuba explained, picking up on my confusion. "Studying the society of the English-speaking countries is part of it. We're doing America right now."  
  
"I'm American," I answered proudly. Finally, the ten-year-old looked over the top of the book at me.  
  
"I want a passing grade, Shay."  
  
I scowled and sat back, my arms folded across my chest. "Fine. Toss me a question."  
  
"What's the number of Americans? People living in the country."  
  
I opened my mouth. I got that far. Mokuba rolled his eyes after several seconds of silence.  
  
"Like I said----"  
  
"Oh, that was one question," I snapped, not knowing when to call it quits. Mokuba sighed and held the book up again.  
  
"What is the nation's most well-known national monument?"  
  
"Mount Rushmore."  
  
Mokuba dropped the book and growled, "That they got from the French."  
  
"The Lincoln Memorial."  
  
"Piece by piece."  
  
"A puzzle."  
  
"Very funny. It's copper."  
  
"Our pennies?"  
  
"It's green."  
  
"Green pennies? What, did they get seasick?"  
  
"The Statue of Liberty!" With an exasperated sigh, Mokuba sat back and held the book up between us.  
  
"Try again," I requested, grateful that he seemed to think I was joking and not completely moronic.  
  
"Fine. But this is the last one."  
  
"Hmmm. Hit it."  
  
"Name twenty of the fifty states."  
  
The next three minutes was not pretty. I'll leave it to your imagination to come up with my answer, but to put it bluntly, I had Mokuba howling with laughter even though he was in a bad mood.  
  
"You are pathetic," Mokuba informed me as he wiped a tear away. "All right, that one was obviously bad. How about------"  
  
"He's not going to get any right," Kaiba muttered. I jumped and leaned over. He'd been sitting in the chair on the other side of a lamp, and I'd never noticed him.  
  
"Kaiba," I answered. "How long have you been there?"  
  
"Long enough," he shot back, sounding amused at my lack of intelligence.  
  
"Oh, ye of little faith," Mokuba mused as he searched his book. "I'll find something he can answer."  
  
"Good luck."  
  
We spent the next hour wandering through his book of America. I answered a grand total of four questions right. Four out of thirty-something. With every incorrect answer, Kaiba would mutter something about me being a born- and-bred idiot. I told him that it was better than being a born-and-bred genius, cause I had room for improvement.  
  
"That's for sure," he said. "If you didn't, I'd find some way to kick you out for once and for good."  
  
As it turns out, and do NOT ask how we came to this conclusion, I know more about the London sewer system than my own home country. Mokuba got a real kick out of that, but Kaiba took it as another way to insult me. Like he needed more.  
  
"You are," he informed me, "not American. You can hardly claim to be of this world. Most people on this planet can answer three times as many questions as you did, and be right. You are a pain, annoying, and extremely nosy, and very little more."  
  
"Right," I snapped. "And since we're talking about MY redeeming qualities, what say we have a chat about yours? You insult me, laugh at me, treat me like nothing, and what have I done to you?"  
  
"Do you want it written or typed? Because it's too long otherwise."  
  
Ok, bad argument. I went for a different angle.  
  
"You think I WANT to be here?" I challenged. "No! I got dumped here by my mystical powers that you hate so much. I'm stuck here; I can't leave for too long or I start to fade. Why me? Because no one cares enough to notice! I didn't ASK to be stuck here!"  
  
"Well, I most certainly didn't ask for you," Kaiba answered, his calm the opposing force to my livid anger. "And I recall being here for a lot longer than you."  
  
The room was filled with a tense silence after that. Kaiba watched me. Something flickered in his eyes.  
  
"Mokuba," he said quietly. "Leave. Now."  
  
"Seto. . . Shay?"  
  
"GO!!!" Kaiba yelled. Mokuba jumped, then darted out of the room.  
  
Kaiba stood and faced me, and I saw fear in his eyes. Real fear. Fear directed towards me. And something deep inside suddenly clicked.  
  
I forced myself to relax, to breathe. The air around me thinned, the powers that had been building up and ready to lash out were retreating, ready to wait for another time.  
  
I closed my eyes and shook my head. "I'm sorry, Kaiba," I muttered. "I was getting mad for no reason. We both got screwed here, so no reason for us to take it out on each other. I don't want to use those powers again." I looked up, met his gaze. He seemed relieved, but also slightly ashamed, as if he actually agreed with me.  
  
"If you vanish for days again," he said softly, "I swear, I will hunt you down and lock you in the freezer. It's playing with fire, I'll admit- slightly stupid, definitely dangerous. I'm used to it, used to dealing with Yugi. But I have to remember that you don't- you can't- have his control. It's not possible."  
  
I titled my head to one side. He was. . . . admitting he was wrong?  
  
"But I'm still going to get you mad," he continued. "So deal with it."  
  
Or not.  
  
I grinned. "And I'm a pitiful excuse for an American, so I s'pose we're even."  
  
"You're a pitiful excuse for a human."  
  
"I'm not human, bright one, I'm a ghost."  
  
And so we started again, arguing and never being able to agree.  
  
"At least," Mokuba said, startling me, for I hadn't realized he'd come back, "you two are getting along." 


	43. Back to School

Flame: Gah. I'm sorry, I know, it's been. . . . three, four months. But. . . . . I had an emotional burnout on my birthday that lasted until my cousin from PA got here for two weeks in August. Add that to the pressure of starting a new year at a different school and having to deal with my father- I think it finally hit me that he's never coming back- and, well, you've got a problem. I'm a major introvert; I'm the one who stands there and takes all the hits and shrugs it off, storing it up inside for a later explosion. It exploded, and because I haven't had to deal with such intense emotions before, I wasn't prepared for it.  
  
Anyway, I know those are just excuses, and sometimes I'm just plain lazy, but it hasn't been in me to start writing again. Every update I've made has been something already written.  
  
Don't worry about me. Drugs, alcohol, sex, suicide- nah. It doesn't help, and having watched my mother's family fall apart because of them, I know better than to get involved. Besides, I have too much to live for, including getting FFX-2 which comes out SOMETIME, whenever the people will MAKE UP THEIR FREAKING MINDS!!!!  
  
My release is my car. There's a wonderful song playing on the radio called 'Dance with My Father' by Luther Van Dross (sp?). Listen to it if you get a chance and remember: You never know how much it means to you, or how much you will miss it, until it is gone. Be grateful you aren't in my place.  
  
And now. . . . if I do this again, a big "Get your ass MOVING!" will help a lot. TY to those who tried. I'm BACK!!!!!!!  
  
Disclaimer: Holy crapola, it's been a while. Anyways. . . . I do not own YGO. I only own Shay.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Whaddya mean, I have to go to school with him?!"  
  
I stared at Mokuba, who stared back. He shifted his backpack and scowled at me.  
  
"Your knowledge of the American culture- YOUR culture- is pitiful. I think going to English with Seto would do you some good."  
  
"But. . . . . but. . . . No!"  
  
Seven thirty Monday morning, and Mokuba was attacking me with this because I had less time to argue. Kaiba, who was eating breakfast and working on a laptop, ignored us both. He'd fought this battle for the past hour to no avail.  
  
"Why not?" The kid challenged. I could tell he'd been winding up, waiting for this chance all weekend. I'd come up to say adios and found myself instead being informed that I was going to relive the worse fifty-minute- daily-chunk of the worse two years of my life.  
  
"Because!" I snapped. Okay, folks, stand back, extreme intelligence at work here. "It doesn't matter if I go to his English class. I'll still be clueless, because it'll be only one day. And I can't go for a week or I'll float around like a blob for the next three weeks."  
  
"Starting to sound like a good idea to me," Kaiba said evenly. Resigned to the fact that he was going to be late, he'd decided to at least show some profit from it. His employees were probably wondering why their boss was signing in and dealing with problems in his business ten minutes after he had to leave for school.  
  
Hell, his employees were probably wondering why their boss was still young enough to go to high school.  
  
"When's your English class?" I asked. Silence for several moments, then a grunt that might have been a two.  
  
"Second hour," Mokuba said. He looked at me. "You can still get back here in plenty of time to do nothing but float around and be bored for most of the day."  
  
I opened my mouth to argue, then snapped it shut. He was right, and we all knew it. At least my tendency to break stuff hadn't come into question, even though the chandelier in the dining room had met its end at my hands not even three hours ago.  
  
It was why the other two were arguing for an hour- they'd been dragged out of their beds at four forty five. Kaiba, thank God, was used to the fact that, if it was expensive, I would break it. Besides a roll of the eyes, he hadn't said a word. Unfortunately for me, he's seen a few too many Tarzan movies and had a basic grasp of how the intricate- and mostly glass- chandelier had found its way to the floor.  
  
"I can request a schedule change," the CEO said. He was still half-asleep, and the other half was absorbed in his laptop. I doubted he knew what he was saying, and decided to test it.  
  
"You can request a sex change?"  
  
"Mm-hm."  
  
Mokuba and I looked at each other. "He's your brother," I said.  
  
"Not at the moment," he responded.  
  
Outside, Wiggie started to go ballistic again. We ignored her- there was no way she could hurt herself unless a porcupine happened to wander within her reach.  
  
"Besides," Mokuba continued, "you still have to convince Battosei to clean up the chandelier."  
  
When I was his age, I couldn't pronounce 'chandelier' correctly, let alone know what it was and use the word intelligibly in a sentence.  
  
Thinking about our past three hours, I couldn't help but feel that we had this situation a little backwards. At over twenty, I should be the boss, but instead, a kid half my age is running the show.  
  
Kaiba still hadn't caught on to my play on words. The screen of the laptop reflected on his face, giving him a pale and unhealthy look. Only his hands were moving. I could've sworn it'd been at least ten minutes since he'd blinked last.  
  
"C'mon, kid," I whined. "He's a whole new breed of vegetable over there. He's growing mold. Can we just forget the whole-?" I stopped in mid- sentence, unable to continue due to the look I was receiving.  
  
"Vegetable?"  
  
"Oh, please. Kid as smart as you's gotta know what a vegetable is."  
  
Mokuba lifted one eyebrow at me, then shook his head. He walked over to his brother and snapped the laptop shut.  
  
"We're gonna be late," he said. Kaiba closed his eyes for several long seconds, then stood. He gave me one long, cold look, and I knew better than to try to get out of it. Still, I had to ask.  
  
"Am I the only one who thinks that me goin' to school ain't such a good idea?"  
  
~*~  
  
Ten minutes before school started- we sped the entire way- I was still complaining.  
  
"And do you remember when I told Mokuba I'd haunt Kaiba Corp.? One of those little brats saw me, I just know it. Kids you age might not believe in ghosts as much, but come on. What're the chances that a school of several hundred kids won't have at least one whacko? Someone in here's gotta believe in ghosts, and knowing our luck, we'll run into them in first hour, and it'll be hell to keep them quiet. Besides, in high school, there are a lot more freaks than in the normal world. We're bound to----"  
  
"Don't you ever shut up?" Kaiba groused.  
  
"Hey, Kaiba," a familiar voice chimed before I could take offense. "Who are you talking to- oh. Hi, Shay."  
  
I smiled and nodded. No longer needing sleep has removed the kill-all- morning-people mentality from this ghost.  
  
"What are you doing here?" Yugi continued. Kaiba spoke before I could.  
  
"Our all-American idiot here knows next to nothing about his home country, so Mokuba blackmailed me into taking him to English class every day for a week."  
  
"He could be seen by someone, you know," Yugi said as he fell into step. I started to answer, but was cut off.  
  
"I've been hearing about it for the past twenty minutes," the CEO snarled. Again, I tried to get input, but the shorter teen interrupted.  
  
"I'm sorry. I know how easy it is for Shay to annoy you, but still, he's got a point."  
  
And Shay was starting to get pissed off, too. I opened my mouth but got nothing out as Kaiba spoke over me.  
  
"How would you know how annoying Shay is? You don't have to live with him."  
  
"No, but I do live with Yami. At least Shay knows better than to think the alarm clock is attacking him."  
  
"He broke my chandelier this morning because he was trying to do a Tarzan impression."  
  
By now, I'd given up and floated alongside Kaiba silently, counting off seconds until the tardy bell rang.  
  
Their conversation ended abruptly when Yugi's other friends, who weren't being followed by a seriously irritated ghost, arrived. Kaiba sneered and peeled away, vanishing without saying goodbye or anything. I waved, and Yugi smiled at that, probably having not expected either of us to acknowledge his existence while he was within immediate vicinity of the Joey.  
  
I tagged along after Kaiba as he stormed upstairs. Once or twice I asked what he had for first hour. The second time I got a response- a long and evil glare. I stopped asking.  
  
We stopped in an empty room. Kaiba strode to the back desk and sat.  
  
"Yugi may understand who I was talking to," he said finally, "but most people would simply think I've lost it. So quit asking questions when there are other people around."  
  
Oops. I hadn't thought of that. Now that I did, however, I figured how I would have reacted if someone I knew was walking down the hallway talking to thin air. I had to grin and ask.  
  
"Can you do it, just to see the looks they give you?"  
  
Judging by the lack of response, that was a no.  
  
"So . . . . . what class?"  
  
"Math."  
  
Oh. My. God.  
  
Kaiba got kind of irritated when I yelled, but I honestly felt I deserved it. Math? This early in the morning?  
  
"I'm gone," I informed him. He scowled, then admitted after a moment that it would be for the best if I left. Weird as speaking to thin air may look, punching it would be even weirder. He told me what time to be back and I memorized the room number, then beat it. A kid opened the door into me, leaving me feel like a sack of wet potatoes that just got an electric shock when the glass window went through me.  
  
No way in hell was I gonna stick around for a math class. English maybe. I'll admit, I'm pretty pathetic. Math is a no, no matter how you look at it.  
  
I spotted Yugi again, and unlike Kaiba, he had no problem with talking to me. When he looked at me, he looked right past Joey, and because he's so short, my floating two feet above the ground didn't make a difference. Feeling accepted, something that hadn't happened since before I can remember, I followed them.  
  
Maybe going to school again wasn't such a bad idea. It would certainly fill up my free time. The thought of the broken chandelier, credit to last night's free time, reinforced my beliefs.  
  
After all, it was better talking to Yugi than helping clean up the unfortunate victim of my sudden Tarzan obsession. 


	44. Drugs And Dragons Do NOT Mix

Dancer: More people. . . . Flame may actually stay sane this school year so she can write. . . . . . It is freakin' COLD out there!!! ::hides under Flame's famous tiger blanket that can somehow be used in both winter and summer::  
  
Flame: Duh. About time, too, it's November and it was in the sixties last week. And give me that back!  
  
Shay: ::appears out of nowhere and watches as the two fight over the blanket:: Uh huh. . . . Hey, Flame, look, it's Winamp!  
  
Flame: ::nearly kills Shay (again) in her rush to Winamp:: Pretty Krad. . . . ::pets the screen::  
  
Dancer: Krad?  
  
Shay: DNAngel. Don't ask.  
  
Disclaimer: If I owned YGO, would I be here writing stories, or out spending my millions? Big choice there.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
"So I forgot when to come back," I grouched. "Sue me. Or, better yet, kill me and get it over with."  
  
Seto Kaiba stalked, and I do mean stalked, down the hallway. He growled. I was taking advantage of the fact that he couldn't talk to me.  
  
"Well, I guess you can't, cause I'm already dead."  
  
"And did you ever pause to wonder why?" he spat out of the corner of his mouth. I grinned and shifted into a more comfortable sitting position, arms behind my head. To say the least, I was getting quite used to my odd abilities.  
  
Several people glanced up, then flattened themselves against the walls as they scrambled to get out of Kaiba's way. His blue eyes were reading murder, and it was really too bad the one person he wanted to kill was the one he couldn't. Too bad for the general populace, I mean. Me being the one he wanted to kill, I didn't think it was such a bad deal.  
  
"I missed the class," I continued. "So what? Mokuba doesn't need to know. Hell, Yugi's first class was English, so technically----"  
  
"You were too busy learning how to duel to listen!" Kaiba snapped. He glared at me for a second, then turned and stormed off.  
  
You see, he wasn't upset because I'd vanished. He was upset because, during lunch, I'd helped Yugi kick his ass in Duel Monsters. Okay, it was cheating, but Yami had been all for it, so I'd agreed.  
  
I'd been around all morning, having been hit with the sudden realization at the beginning of third hour that I was a little bit late and could quite possibly have trouble finding Kaiba.  
  
Of course, as he had previously yelled at me, of course I couldn't go home. I was too stupid to think of that.  
  
Still, the look on his face when he realized he'd been outsmarted by me was priceless.  
  
"No I wasn't," I chirped cheerfully. "That was second hour."  
  
Death glare. I was really liking this. Going home wasn't gonna be fun, but hey. Not often I got to rub something in like this.  
  
We floated and/or stomped outside, where Kaiba hesitated. He took several long, deep breaths, then continued on to his limo. Calm. Definitely calm. Probably an act, but at least he wasn't going to strangle the driver.  
  
I heard someone laughing and glanced to my left. Joey and Tristan were obviously still amused by the whole Duel Monsters thing. I couldn't help but grin.  
  
The limo door slammed, nearly gutting me, but I hadn't really expected Kaiba to be nice. Instead, I dove through the metal part and settled happily into the seat next to him. He ignored me this time, telling the driver to go to Kaiba Corp.  
  
The buttons shined and glittered. Remembering my three minutes of fame with Kaiba's computer, my grin grew larger. I reached forward and pressed one.  
  
A buzz came from up in the front seat. Confused, the driver glanced back.  
  
"Sir?" He asked, sounding puzzled. I got another death look, and the CEO waved the man off. While he was doing this, I flipped a switch.  
  
The panel between us and the driver went up. Kaiba slapped my hand away and rolled it all the way up, closing us off. I pushed another button.  
  
Radio. Not loud, not very good station. I made a face and pushed it again.  
  
We went through about sixteen stations before I was pushed away. I cranked the volume up, then attacked the air conditioning controls.  
  
Kaiba got real tired of this after two minutes and pushed me back, as far away from the controls as he could get me. He then pushed the intercom button, apparently to demand we change course and go home before he snapped.  
  
Nothing. I got a funny feeling in my gut, like I did whenever there was going to be trouble. Concerned, I glanced at Kaiba. He tried the button again, this time holding it down for several seconds.  
  
The limo swayed a little. It was my turn to shove him aside as I flipped the switch down.  
  
We had no driver.  
  
I stared in horror at the empty driver's seat. Kaiba snapped something in my ear, but I was fascinated.  
  
Ever since I had died, I hadn't seen another person pass away. Now, this was the only explanation for what I was seeing. There was a grey fog in the shape of a person, easily overlooked. Some bright, silvery, fluid-like substance flowed from where his heart ought to be.  
  
Silvery stuff. I'd seen it once before, when I'd blown up the kitchen and almost killed Kaiba. Some sort of silver glow had come over him, easily forgotten because of the stress of the moment. It had been pale, light, and it looked as though one touch would have separated the silver glow from his body.  
  
Life force. That was what it had to be. I was looking at the man's life force.  
  
My hand reached out slowly, reaching for the life force. Something overcame me, and I lunged forward. I wanted it and nothing would stop me.  
  
'Nothing' can now also be called Seto Kaiba. Sensing that I wasn't up to anything good, he seized me by my shirt and shoved me back. The sensation of my head hitting the hard window dragged me out of my reverie. Window is glass, glass is bad. I blinked, seeing only shadows of the silver life force in my mind.  
  
Kaiba, meanwhile, had swung himself into the front. He pushed the driver aside and tried in vain to slow the limo down. I touched the man's chest, right over his heart, and sighed.  
  
All gone, by now. Maybe next time.  
  
"Shay! Dammit, listen to me! What is your problem?!"  
  
". . . . problem. . . . ?"  
  
He stared at me for a few seconds, then was dragged back to the road by a screech.  
  
There was no stopping this limo. I watched the telephone pole speed at us, feeling surrounded by some sort of fog. The euphoria had come from such close presence to a bodiless life force. I wondered if Kaiba's life force glowed even brighter. After all, he did have an incredible will to live.  
  
I don't remember the crash. I felt like I'd taken some sort of drug, maybe taken a hallucinogen or something. The whole world seemed fake, unreal. The life force was a drug to me, and I had gotten within three inches of it.  
  
I do, however, remember hitting the ground. I'd gone through the limo. Briefcase hit the ground next to my head. Could've hurt. Blackness clawed at me, trying to get me to join it.  
  
I yawned and rolled over, halfheartedly pushing the briefcase out of my way. So. . . . tired. . . . .  
  
With the light of the silver life force glowing in my head, I gave in to the sweet darkness.  
  
~*~  
  
Cold. Wet, barely. Not much, but still too much. Rough voices. Silver glow.  
  
Smiled at that. Life force. Sweet stuff. Good feeling fading now, rough voices again. Breaking through. Ignored them. Chased the glow.  
  
Should've touched it. Last longer. Life force. Sweet stuff. Ghost drugs. Fire danced, slow. No noise, just there.  
  
Rough voices again. Getting annoying. Wanted it to stop. Wet again. Feeling stiffer, colder. Life force.  
  
Voices irritate. Sounded like gravel. Rocks trying to speak. No words, just noise. Real world stuff. Not ready to let go yet. Don't wanna let go.  
  
Then, eruption.  
  
~*~  
  
"He's not waking up," one voice snarled. I winced; it was like someone had teeth made of rock. My eyelids were heavy and didn't want to open. The silver was still there. A mental touch, and back in my own little world.  
  
Not going to happen, though. The voice- or the body belonging to it- dumped more water on me. I gave in and growled.  
  
"Wake up," another voice commanded. I was nudged with something sharp- claws, maybe? I couldn't tell.  
  
"M'p," I muttered, then frowned. My words were slurred heavily. I still wasn't able to open my eyes, and if my agitators understood me, it was nothing short of a miracle.  
  
"Prove it," a third voice- or might it have been the first? Hard to tell- ordered. "Open your eyes."  
  
That was difficult. By straining, I managed to open one eye a sliver.  
  
Three heads, each one the size of a small car, peered at me. Six blue, pupil-less eyes had focused on me.  
  
Three mouths, each lined with razor-sharp, glitter-in-the-sunshine teeth, hovered over me.  
  
"I'm up," I repeated, much clearer this time. Now I knew why the voices were so rough.  
  
It had probably been a while since the three Blue Eyes White Dragons had needed to speak.  
  
Even as I scrambled to my feet, I realized that this was probably just another hallucination brought on by the life force. The dragons couldn't just come to life whenever they chose, especially since they each towered over all buildings nearby.  
  
I felt like a soggy piece of bread. Blue Eyes Number One reached threateningly back towards the pond. We were sitting in someone's front yard, a ghost and three imaginary dragons, dumping pond water on each other.  
  
Blue Eyes Number Two snarled at me, then spun me around by hitting my shoulder with his nose. I stared at the telephone pole, splintered by the impact. The limo had burned streaks across the roof where the power lines had fallen. Smoke billowed out of the engine, and fire danced.  
  
I glanced around, saw Kaiba's briefcase sitting open and the slot normally reserved for the three dragons empty. Blue Eyes Number Three- or was it Number One? - pushed me forward with a huge claw. Forward, to the limo.  
  
It was then that I realized that Kaiba, not having my powers, was still trapped.  
  
Shit.  
  
"Kaiba!" I yelled, lunging forward. Sensing that I finally understood, the dragons relaxed. Still, they watched me with their creepy eyes, waiting somewhat patiently for me to help their Master.  
  
The door wasn't opening. I growled helplessly, then rounded on Blue Eyes Number Two, who happened to be closest.  
  
"Well, help!" I snapped. Three giant heads shook themselves. Frustrated, I snapped back. "Why not?!"  
  
"We cannot touch anything that is not directly within our realm," Blue Eyes Number Two- the leader, I think- stated calmly. "You are within our realm. The water lies within both ours and theirs."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
The other two snarled fiercely, and I went back to my job of getting through. Tension mounted, and my hands were getting too warm. Finally giving in, I floated through. Maybe it would be easier to open from the inside.  
  
Kaiba was still alive and conscious, thank God. He was trapped, the steering wheel pushed down between him and the nearest door. I lunged over him and to the other door.  
  
The crash had taken out the driver's side, so the other door worked fine. I spun around and yelled for Kaiba. If we didn't hurry, I'd have a whole new life force to play with.  
  
"Come on," I urged, wanting to get out. I wanted to sit on the ground outside and wail about how not-fair life is. I wanted to be a little kid, bawling my eyes out. I wanted comfort.  
  
First, I had to get this asshole out.  
  
"Dammit, Kaiba, get your ass into gear! We haven't got all day!" I snapped. Kaiba pushed against the wheel and twisted around. His movements were slow, unusually clumsy. His normal smoothness had been stripped away by the crash .  
  
At least, I prayed that was it. If he was hurt, things would get difficult.  
  
More motivation needed. I gave it readily.  
  
"C'mon, Kaiba," I jibed. "You can get out. You can't die like this. You don't deserve this." Glare. His eyes were slightly glazed, but totally focused. "Yeah, that's it. You can hit me all you want after this. Please, Seto, just do this for me. Hell! Do it for Mokuba! You know how much he'll hate me- himself- the entire world - if you die."  
  
One hand reached out shakily and grabbed my arm. Alternately insulting and coaxing him, I led him out. Through the door, into the street, and we were free. I sighed and glanced around, pleased to see cop cars coming.  
  
The feeling returned, tightening around my heart. We couldn't stay here.  
  
I grabbed his hand and yanked him to his feet again, pulling him around to where the Blue Eyes were. Obviously agitated, the three dragons watched me.  
  
I didn't know where their cards had gone, then figured that if the creatures themselves were standing in front of me, there probably wouldn't be any cards. I snatched up the briefcase and pulled Kaiba as far away from the limo as possible.  
  
The explosion rocked the entire street. Startled by this, Kaiba sat bolt upright. He still looked half dead, but at least he was half alive.  
  
I turned back to Blue Eyes Number Two, who watched me carefully.  
  
"Within your realm?" I asked. The head nodded.  
  
"Essentially, the spirit realm. The spirit realm is infused with the living realm, sometimes so greatly that small things- like the water- can be taken over into either. You, being a spirit, live within our realm."  
  
I shrugged. I never understand half of what's explained to me anyways.  
  
Kaiba suddenly grabbed my arm and damn near pulled me over. He spat out the name of some school, then told me to go get Mokuba.  
  
Okay. That works.  
  
The dragons reassured me that they would do everything within their considerable power to keep Kaiba safe. Repeating the name of Mokuba's school under my breath, I floated off to the nearest pay phone.  
  
No phone book. Of course. What did I think this was? New York?  
  
Fear at the close call finally got to me, and I collapsed, leaning against the viciously cold metal.  
  
I could have been lying there for hours. Those three dragons alone had saved Kaiba from a painful death.  
  
Just like last time, it was gonna be a while before I forgave myself.  
  
Gritting my teeth, I pushed away from the phones and headed off, not knowing where I was going.  
  
It would be a long, very long, time before I forgave myself, but I knew I would never forget it. 


	45. Grammar Skills

Flame: Gah! I am soooooo sorry! MSN and my computer have declared war, I cannot sign on for longer than three minutes, my cat spilled water all over my keyboard and stole two more keys, and my mouse is going goofy.  
  
Dancer: Sounds like a long lists of excuses. . . . .  
  
Flame: No! Iz all true!  
  
Dancer: Also, we're leaving on Tuesday to go to Michigan and spend Thanksgiving with relatives. ::shudders:: Old people are no fun. . . . .  
  
Neochaoscrystal: Nope, I haven't given up on this story. . . . I just need a good kick in the rear end occasionally. Sorry for the wait and thanks for coming back!  
  
Disclaimer: ::Flame appears and brandishes her new rubber chicken:: En guard!  
  
Dancer: O.o;;;; Okay . . . . . we do not own YGO, only Shay, and I think it's time to take her off the disclaimers and the hallucinogens. . . .  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Mokuba was sitting and waiting for me in the principal's office. He noticed me a few seconds after I floated in and jumped to his feet.  
  
"Where are you going?" The woman sitting behind the desk asked nervously. She couldn't see me and didn't understand the reason for leaving.  
  
"I'm tired of waiting," the kid informed her, then turned and charged towards me. "What's going on?" he hissed.  
  
I had never seen Mokuba look so much like his older brother. It had to be the eyes- cold and challenging. Too scared to answer, and too scared not to, I did the best I could.  
  
"WegotintoaccidentKaibaalmostkilledgonetohospitaltalkingdragons and that's all."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
I laughed nervously, then gestured for him to follow.  
  
The streets were jammed- the accident was swarming with enough reporters and cops that six blocks away, the tree next to you was growing faster than you were moving. I stared at it for a moment, then turned and raced down the sidewalk. Either we could hoof it or take ten hours just to get there.  
  
Thank God Mokuba was a smart kid- he'd left his bag and anything else that could slow him down at school and easily kept up with me. I was trying without success to remember how to get to the limo.  
  
"We need a hatchet to hack through this crap," I snarled, gesturing towards the cars. "I can't figure out which way I'm s'posed to go."  
  
A blasting roar cut off Mokuba's reply. He kept talking, but I spun around.  
  
All three heads were glaring at me over the mess of cars and buildings. With a nod of thanks, I cut across the street. The younger Kaiba followed me without hesitating, all but stepping on my heels. I shot through backyards, leaving the kid to jump the fences and flat-out run to catch up to me again.  
  
The second yard had a dog. A very big dog. It snarled and stood, taking stiff steps towards Mokuba.  
  
I growled in response, earning myself a glance from the dog. Abruptly, its tail went down, its fangs covered again, and it backed off, whimpering.  
  
Without waiting to see what the problem was, Mokuba ran off. I blinked at the dog, then turned and followed him.  
  
There were no more incidents until we made it to the accident. Mokuba stopped and stood there for a second, trying to master his panting before striding calmly off to the nearest important-looking person. I crossed the street to speak to the dragons.  
  
"C'mon, guys," I said, sounding tired even to my own ears. "Mokuba's here, Kaiba's on his way to the hospital, there's no reason to hang around."  
  
The leader snapped at me as I reached towards the blank cards, damn near taking my arm off. I jumped back, startled.  
  
"No," he growled in his rusty, rocky voice. "Take us to the hospital and see if Master Seto is unhurt."  
  
"Uhhh. . . ." I began, not sure how to tell them that his being unhurt was as likely as the moon flying off through space and slamming into Mars.  
  
"It had best be so, dead man," the third dragon growled. All three heads nodded, and I swallowed. There wasn't even the slightest of hints that they could do anything to me, but I wasn't going to risk ticking off a trio of four-story, lightning-breathing dragons.  
  
"Uhhh. . . . . ." I repeated. As if by a cue that I hadn't seen, three massive heads dropped down to my level and boxed me into a blunt-nosed triangle. I flinched and closed my eyes, prepared for anything.  
  
The cards were shoved into my hand, and the leader breathed softly, "Now."  
  
"Ok," I muttered, then opened my eyes. They were gone. Quick as that, the three ambulance-sized heads had vanished and reappeared, attached to the body, within the cards I held.  
  
When I looked around for Mokuba, I found that he had vanished as well. Feeling lost, I hitched a ride in a cop car over to the hospital. How I was supposed to find out how Kaiba was doing was beyond me.  
  
If there was one rule of survival that I was following admirably, 'don't get the three impatient dragons (that are really cards but have come to life anyways) mad' had to be it. Wake up, get Kaiba out of the burning limo, get Mokuba, take them to the hospital. These lizards were picking up their masters' bad attitude.  
  
We stopped at the hospital, but it took me several long seconds to outlast the dizzy spell that suddenly swept over me. I glanced at my hand and hissed.  
  
I was fading. And if I could see it, then it was pretty bad.  
  
"I can't stay here for more than a few minutes," I muttered, unsure of whether the dragons had heard me.  
  
The hospital was busy, overflowing with reporters and curious people trying to get a look at what was going on. I glanced at a computer, then headed off to the elevators.  
  
Mokuba was sitting directly across from the elevators, so he spotted me immediately. He peered at me.  
  
"Shay?"  
  
"The one and only, thank God."  
  
"You're really faded," he said, shaking his head. "Leave, please. I don't want to have to worry about both Seto and you."  
  
I handed him the three Blue Eyes' cards and told him what they wanted. He nodded solemnly, promising to call and tell me the second he knew anything.  
  
I closed my eyes and surrendered to the slingshot.  
  
A heartbeat later, Battosei screamed and nearly hit me with her bag. I blinked and glanced around. Back home, in the mansion.  
  
"You did that on purpose!" The maid snapped. I backed off, giving her more room to simmer. She took several calming breaths, then continued. "What's going on, anyways? I heard all the sirens coming here, and got stuck in the traffic jam, but I don't know what happened."  
  
"What makes you think something happened?" I asked. She lifted one eyebrow in an I-know-you're-mocking-me glare.  
  
"Kaiba doesn't come home, there's a huge accident two blocks from his school, Mokuba's school calls and tells me not to expect either of them for a while, and you suddenly pop up out of nowhere, all faded. Now you tell me- what am I SUPPOSED to think?"  
  
"Uhhh. . . . . ." I answered, comparing her to the dragons.  
  
No competition. Battosei is much, much scarier when she's mad.  
  
She rolled her eyes and gave me that do-as-I-say-or-die look normally reserved for Kaiba.  
  
The phone rang.  
  
Silence stretched on tensely as she reached for it. Pushing her hair out of her eyes for better glare-ability and snapped out a terse hello. More silence, then she handed me the phone.  
  
"Hey," I managed, trying to ignore Battosei. Not an easy task, mind you.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"Hello, nice to hear from you, good to know you're still in one piece, I have no doubt that you appreciate the concern."  
  
"Cut the crap," Kaiba snarled. "What happened?!"  
  
"Wha. . . . what makes you think I know what----"  
  
"Shay."  
  
My name, backed with hundreds of hours of annoyance and pain and irritation, that one single word did wonders.  
  
"Well, I don't really know, I think the driver had a heart attack or som'in, anyways, I saw his life force, and it was all pretty, and I tried to touch it, but you pulled me away, and I kinda zoned out, cause life force is like a ghost drug, and the limo crashed, and your three Blue Eyes White Dragon's woke me up by dumping water on me, and told me to get you out cause the limo was burning, and I got you out, and I went to get Mokuba, and we went to the hospital but I had to leave cause I was fading and Mokuba has your cards."  
  
Dead silence, both from over the phone and from Battosei behind me. I glanced at her, then continued helplessly.  
  
"Well, it's what happened."  
  
"Cool," Battosei said suddenly. "All one sentence. And a story too stupid to be made up, so I suppose I'll believe you."  
  
"Thanks," I shot back. She grinned and walked away.  
  
"Somehow, I don't believe you," Kaiba muttered. "But she's right. That was too stupid to be made up."  
  
I sighed.  
  
"Now I just need to find a psycho ward that takes ghosts." 


	46. Soup's Up

Dancer: Finals are finally over. . . .  
  
Flame: GOD DAMMIT IT'S COLD IN THIS FREAKIN' HOUSE!!!  
  
Dancer: I think I passed all my classes. . . .  
  
Flame: It's warmer outside than in here. Grrrrrrrr. . .  
  
Dancer: I don't know and I don't care. It's almost Christmas; here's your present.  
  
Flame: 52 degrees?! I wouldn't mind if it was 52 degrees OUTSIDE, but INSIDE, I'd prefer somewhere closer to SEVENTY!!!!!!  
  
Dancer: ::watches Flame hit the thermostat:: Yeah, well, we all got our own little problems today, don't we?  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own YGO or Battosei or Keiji. . . . . I just own Shay. ~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Mild burns, a sprained wrist, and several small cuts from broken glass," Battosei announced twenty minutes later. She was back on the phone, talking to Kaiba, since the strain was too much for me. "Not to mention one half-faded and mentally screwed ghost."  
  
"None of this was my fault."  
  
She turned away from me and I sighed.  
  
"There is nothing to do here, since you won't let me play with anything. . . ." I muttered.  
  
"The limo's trash," the maid said, continuing her damage report. "The driver did have a heart attack. Bingo the Unliving Wonder over there got that much right."  
  
"I wonder what Wiggie's doing," I mused, pushing a curtain aside. The dog stared at me with big, soulful brown eyes before tossing her head back and howling.  
  
"Kaiba gets all of this week off from school," Battosei informed me.  
  
"Nice."  
  
"He says next time he wants to get out of school, he'll just call in sick. There's really no reason for you to go to such extremes."  
  
I closed my eyes and tilted my head back. Something was giving me the creeps. It was the same feeling of danger as earlier, but distant. It was as if it was on the horizon, not much to worry about.  
  
Still, at the risk of sounding cliché, I was getting a very bad feeling about something.  
  
"Shay? Are you all right?"  
  
I turned back to face her, surprised by her question.  
  
"You seem. . . . different," she muttered, reaching out with a hand. Half an inch away from my face, she stiffened, then dropped her arm. Dark brows rose over silver eyes. "Sad. You seem sad."  
  
I frowned, then shrugged. I had nothing to be sad about, save the limo driver's death.  
  
"I've never seen you sad before. Upset, hell yeah, but sad?" she stepped closer, peering at me, then turned her attention back to the phone. "Hey, Yami, how do you tell if a ghost is sick?"  
  
I blinked and turned to face her. "I'm not sick," I protested.  
  
"Famous last words."  
  
"I'm already dead."  
  
We had a staring contest for about thirty seconds. Then she threw a can of soup at me. I jerked away, startled.  
  
"What the . . . . .?"  
  
"Shut up. It was the only thing in reach."  
  
I went to pick the soup up, not at all averse to using any excuse to get away from her. As soon as I got into the living room, I froze.  
  
There was some. . . . thing. . . . already there.  
  
I picked up the can slowly, trying to pinpoint the feeling without much success. It had been a long time since I had felt true, mind-numbing fear.  
  
I was feeling it now.  
  
Fear is an emotion that humans use to remain living. Fear is a survival method. Once that survival method fails and the human is no longer living, there is no use for fear. Or, at least, that's what I'd been led to believe.  
  
I was still trying to figure it out when that 'something' appeared.  
  
Granted, I probably overreacted. And I definitely showed that common sense has no holding in the face of panic. But when a woman drifted up through the floor, I felt I had a certain right to do something.  
  
I followed my instincts and yelled, dropped the can, turned, and dove into the kitchen, going through Battosei before sliding to a stop and cowering behind her.  
  
Coward, yes. Idiot, yes. Good at getting out of trouble, yes. Good at getting people mad, yes. Good at acting like a complete and total moron, yes.  
  
"What the hell's going on?!" Battosei spun around, but I firmly kept her between me and the door.  
  
"Ghost!" I yelped. "There's a ghost in there!"  
  
Silence. Then,  
  
"Shay, YOU ARE A GHOST!!!" She hit me over the head with the phone. I frowned, then laughed nervously.  
  
"I guess I am, huh?"  
  
"Idiot," she muttered. "Now, this is where a normal person would say, 'there's no such thing as ghosts', but for time's sake, let's just skip that and move on. Shay, if there is another ghost in there, what are you SUPPOSED to do?"  
  
"Ummm. . . . . . Freak out and run for cover?"  
  
"All right, that's what you did. Now how about, what are you supposed to do?"  
  
I lost it right about then. She hadn't known that feeling of true fear, deep inside. She had no right to laugh.  
  
"Ok, smart-ass, what the hell'm I s'posed ta do, invite her for tea?!"  
  
Battosei turned to me, eyebrows high.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Your voice changes," she muttered. "Whenever you get upset, you get a weird accent."  
  
Mokuba had said something to the same effect earlier, but I wasn't feeling in the mood at that given moment. Instead of giving her more ammo, I crossed my arms and glared at her.  
  
"Why are you looking at me? You're the immortal. You go first."  
  
"Ladies first." She WAS nervous. Victory. Small, but hey.  
  
"You're not a gentleman. Besides, the ghost is female----"  
  
"Who said---?"  
  
"You did. Use your charm. You've got it. Honestly, there are times when I just want to hug you and never let go."  
  
Now I was scared of both females.  
  
I floated slowly into the living room, only to find it empty.  
  
"You probably scared her as much as she scared you," Battosei offered. "After all, you've been here for a while, and she just showed up. It's possible she realized that this was your turf and left."  
  
"Then why is the can floating?" I countered. Battosei opened her mouth, then shut it.  
  
I went over to it and poked it, but so far as I could see, there was nothing holding it up. I turned back to Battosei.  
  
"See a ghost?"  
  
"No, and if you could see her earlier, then there's no reason why you couldn't see her now."  
  
I was getting confused. The soup can continued to float in front of me, as if it too were a ghost. Soup Heaven. I had to smile.  
  
I must have touched a magic button, for the can suddenly stopped floating and dropped to the floor. It never made it.  
  
Halfway there, the can exploded, sending sticky goop and noodles flying everywhere. Battosei squawked and ducked into the kitchen. I jerked away, startled, then stopped.  
  
Nothing. The can exploded, and nothing else happened.  
  
Battosei stuck her head around the corner, watching for any other randomly exploding objects. We probably looked pretty funny, glaring at all the furniture, as if expecting it to come alive and do a tap dance.  
  
All in all, damage done to the living room was minimal. A wet rag wiped all the soup away. We did find that Battosei had been extremely lucky- a three inch piece of metal was stuck in the wall. It probably would've skewered her eye if not for her quick reflexes.  
  
A hunt revealed all other pieces of the can. Besides that one, none had proved dangerous while following a quick path to the ground. Most were too small to be seen.  
  
"What made it explode?" Battosei asked herself as she ran the vacuum across the carpet. I watched and tried not to let the cord slice through me- a truly unpleasant feeling.  
  
"I'm more interested in the ghost that was here," I answered. "She did it, I think."  
  
"No." The maid turned and looked me right in the eye. "I think you were making the can float. You're even more faded than before, and you haven't been doing anything straining."  
  
I looked at the spot where the can had been floating. Right where it'd been when I'd seen the other ghost, meaning. . . .  
  
Meaning she was right. I'd made the can float.  
  
"Ok," I said. "So why'd it go ka-boom? And who's the other ghost?"  
  
Battosei laughed and returned to the damn vacuum. "You make it sound like, 'who's the other man?' Like you're being cheated, because you're not the only ghost here."  
  
I spent a few moments trying to figure out where that had come from, then shrugged it off.  
  
As for the other. . . . ghost. . . .  
  
I looked down, studying the floor. She'd come up from the basement. Maybe she'd gone back down there.  
  
Except I was NOT going down there alone.  
  
Yes, I know, brave, macho man that I am. The unhurtable ghost was about to ask the mortal woman to escort him downstairs, into a basement that was practically said ghost's hideout.  
  
Then I figured I could just ask the computer.  
  
Ha ha. Ask the computer. As if the machine hasn't already declared war on me, no, we have to get her thinking I've lost it by asking where the ghost went.  
  
And me assuming she thinks at all is no big deal.  
  
Kaiba's right. I need a psychiatrist.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Dancer: Wow.  
  
Flame: Mwahaha. Seventy-two degrees. Mom's gonna kill me, but what the hell.  
  
Dancer: Amazing what difference an hour makes, ne?  
  
Flame: Yup. Anyways, I just wanted to let you peeps know. . . . we're flying out to Pennsylvania tomorrow, and we aren't gonna be back until after New Year's, so. . . . . updates will be incredibly slow. 


	47. Bakura vs Slimer

Flame: Wow.  
  
Dancer: ::having a staring contest with her math homework::  
  
Flame: I didn't know you could check how many people have you on their author alerts. . . . .  
  
Dancer: ::stares at blank paper::  
  
Flame: Guess what! I FINALLY got to see the third LotR movie last week. Me an' my friend went, and on the radio the next day, the DJ was talking about us. He'd gone to the same movie, and apparently, he didn't appreciate our talking to the movie. His exact words were, "I can understand somewhat, because they were both seventeen or so, but still, do you honestly expect the people in the movie to HEAR you?"  
  
Yes.  
  
Dancer: ::looking up from blank paper and half-burned math book:: This explains a lot about you.  
  
Flame: I talk to movie characters. You burn sixty-dollar textbooks. I may be insane, but at least I'm not destructive-insane.  
  
Dancer: At the moment.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own YGO or Miashin or Battosei. No animals were harmed in this production except Shay.  
  
Shay: Wow, do I feel loved.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
I followed Battosei around for the rest of the day. According to her, this would have been amusing, had I not been following her for the sole reason of ghost protection.  
  
That's quoting her, and there's a joke in there somewhere, but. . . . . I don't see it. Which is perfectly fine by me, seeing as to how I doubt I'd think it very funny.  
  
Battosei got tired of me and told me to leave or else. In the process of rapidly scooting away, I got a brilliant idea.  
  
My 'brilliant ideas' have this disturbing tendency to turn out completely right. This is a rather frightening thing when one of those 'brilliant ideas' was to play with the buttons on Kaiba's talking computer. (AN: Chapter 36) Still, this one wasn't brilliant; it was productive, successful, and nondestructive.  
  
If Seto Kaiba, priest-from-ancient-times and all, could push ME around, shouldn't it be the same for, say, other ghosts? Even female ghosts who scare the living-dead-whatever shit out of the current resident ghost? I've got the guy in the hospital; there is no way in hell he'd put up with another ghost, and he's actually got the power to do something about it.  
  
Unless he decides he likes her better and trades me in.  
  
This was a rational worry-- the whole got-him-in-the-hospital thing is both good and bad, but mostly bad-but not one I actually considered. Mokuba would finish my job and kill him if the older Kaiba even thought about it. I had faith in my little friend.  
  
I floated back down to the kitchen and stared at the phone, willing it to ring. All things considered, I could have been there for hours, had I not seen the little Sticky note left beside the phone. It had a phone number and Battosei's writing.  
  
Not that I read it- we'd discovered that while I spoke Japanese just fine, I couldn't read or write in any language save English.  
  
I picked up the phone and held it, waiting for it to slide through my hand like all other plastic things. It stayed put. Grateful that Mokuba had spared time to teach my numbers, I dialed.  
  
The phone rang upward of eight times before someone picked it up. I'd been hoping it was the hospital, and not the plumber or something, and it wasn't a hope in vain.  
  
No, I wasn't lucky enough to have that problem. Instead, I got a rock- steady nurse.  
  
Normally, this is a good thing. This is a very good thing. Normally. However, I needed a superstitious, believes-in-ghosts-and-spirits nurse, for an obvious reason.  
  
We both said hello at the same time, she rattled off the name of the hospital. I tried to ask for Kaiba, but apparently, what works in viewing is also necessary in hearing.  
  
After squawking 'hello?' for several minutes, the parrot hung up. I was upset, but simply put the phone down and settled nearby, studying the phone. This one had more buttons than a computer keyboard, but one jumped out at me.  
  
CALLER ID BLOCK, and next to it, a little red light signaling that the block was on. I didn't precisely know what that meant, but decided to give it a push and try again.  
  
This time, the same nurse answered.  
  
"It's got no answer, but it's got Kaiba's number on Caller ID," the parrot announced.  
  
"Then send it over to Kaiba," another nurse answered. "He's really starting to annoy me, thinking we're his own special servants----"  
  
Click, crappy music, click, Kaiba.  
  
"Hey Kaiba," I called cheerfully.  
  
"Oh, no," he moaned. My spirits plummeted, even as my anger rose.  
  
"Hey, I figured out how to work the phone," I snapped. "I even got through to you."  
  
I was proud of myself. Trust Kaiba to put an end to that.  
  
"Pick up the phone, dial a number. Not really complicated, but for you, I understand how it could be difficult. What do you want?"  
  
Boy, you could just reach out and touch the hostility, even over the phone.  
  
I opened my mouth, prepared to tell him about the other ghost, but stopped myself. Personally, I was tired of his thinking I was an idiot. Battosei had had enough fun laughing at me for being scared of another ghost. I wasn't going to give Kaiba the chance as well.  
  
Perhaps several of my actions- okay, ninety-nine percent of them- lacked sufficient planning and thought, but that didn't automatically mean stupid. It just meant I had nothing resembling forethought or a sense of responsibility.  
  
"Shay. . . . ." Kaiba growled. I returned to reality as he continued. "I don't have the patience for you right now----"  
  
"Sorry," I answered simply. "I didn't mean to disturb you. I can take care of it myself."  
  
"Shay? Are you all right?"  
  
Instead of the anger I'd expected, he actually sounded worried. It cracked my defenses, but I ignored it. Sure, now he didn't understand what was going on and was worried, but in two hours or so, he'd be back to normal.  
  
Question. Answer. I fended him off, not really knowing what I was saying, pretty much convincing him that some dead thing had gone and screwed with my head again.  
  
I hung up and floated into the living room. Back to where I was before, holding the soup can, stayed there and stared at the carpet for several seconds. And then, straight down.  
  
Partially.  
  
The water was cold as hell and, more importantly, wet. I howled and dropped about three floors, then slimed my way back up.  
  
Yami Bakura beamed at me, holding the half-full bucket in perfect strike position. Battosei stood behind him, trying not to laugh.  
  
Ryou had more of a heart than his yami and the maid put together. He was staring at a spot on the far wall, as if afraid the wall would collapse if he looked away.  
  
"The priest called to tell us that there was something wrong with you." Bakura shifted the bucket and continued with more cheer than I had thought possibly existed in him. "Told me to do this, so you didn't do anything stupid."  
  
I stared at him.  
  
"Bakura, I'm honestly terrified of you, but you're about to be slimed."  
  
That was all it took for Battosei, who burst into laughter. Bakura sent her an odd look, then decided being 'slimed' did not sound, and probably was not, pleasant. He backed up and held the bucket of water between us.  
  
Ryou was turning a bright shade of pink as he stared at his little spot-on- the-wall.  
  
This was how we were when Mokuba walked in.  
  
Talk about things going from bad to worse. A bucket of ice water I could handle. I would take fifty of them over that one single look Mokuba sent me.  
  
If there's life after death, can there also be death after death?  
  
That little ten-year-old bravely marched over and removed the bucket from Bakura- actually, it was more like removed Bakura from the bucket- and handed it to Ryou. Skewering me with a glare, he ushered the other three out of the room, nearly getting bit in the process by a certain irate tomb robber.  
  
Then he stood in front of me, and I decided I'd much rather have faced about five thousand buckets of ice water than this.  
  
"So. . . . . was she cute?"  
  
"Huh?!"  
  
This, I had not expected.  
  
"Was. She. Cute."  
  
I stared, uncomprehending, and Mokuba grinned.  
  
"Seto told me to ask you that."  
  
How did he know about the other ghost? I didn't remember saying anything about her on the phone. Unless. . . . . he knew abut her before?  
  
Yeah, right. Ebay's hot new item: ghosts.  
  
"Battosei told us about her. She said you freaked out."  
  
Ok, accurate enough so far.  
  
"Seto says if you wanna go looking for the other ghost, he won't stop you, but he does request that you dry out first."  
  
I'm gonna kill him.  
  
"Do you remember how to speak?" Mokuba asked. I gave him the fish eye, then smiled.  
  
"Tomorrow," I muttered, and the kid agreed.  
  
It was too tempting. Unable to resist, I started singing 'Tomorrow' as loud as I could. Mokuba yelled and covered his ears, laughing so hard he almost gave himself a black eye in the process.  
  
Tomorrow will be here soon enough.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Flame: Tomorrow, tomorrow, I'll love ya, tomorrow. . . . .  
  
Dancer: Grrrr. . . . .  
  
Flame: ::laughs and pats Dancer on the shoulder.::  
  
Anyway, about the request to bring the Master of Death back. . . . Maybe?  
  
I have to remember what it's like to write something with actual plot. Zy actually could end up playing a part in this story. Maybe. No more spoilers from me.  
  
Zippo. 


	48. Keiji Miashin

Flame: Eh heh he he.... Hide me...  
  
Dancer: No updates for... two and a half months. Tell me, are we trying to get people mad at us?  
  
Flame: No, we're delaying. I have three- count 'em, three- projects in history, one seven-page research paper to write, a two-page paper to write, two books to read, another paper of indeterminable length (meaning three pages plus or else) to write, seven pages of review to do, and more orchestra than I care to think about. I love high school.  
  
Dancer: And yet, here we are, writing instead.  
  
Flame: Yeah, well, part of it was my mother's fault. She freaked out on me about two weeks ago and yanked me away from the computer. According to the counselor ::insert hatred here:: I need to spend more time socializing with actual people instead of sitting in front of the computer. I chat on- line with more people than I talk to in reality. Try and explain this 'expose her to more people by taking away her access to them' theory to me. I'm not getting it.  
  
Dancer: ::sighs:: Ah well, school will be over soon.  
  
Flame: June cannot come fast enough. In summer there will be more updates. I promise. Until then... friends?  
  
Disclaimer: Gah. Too many names on the 'don't own' list. What ever happened to my dreams? I was gonna monopolize the anime world----!!!!  
  
Dancer: We don't own YGO, Battosei, or Miashin. Someone help.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
At accurately one minute past midnight, I found myself hovering over the magic spot. Yes, I had agreed to wait until tomorrow, but technically, tomorrow would never come, so today was good enough. Besides, today is yesterday's tomorrow, today is tomorrow's yesterday, and the cow jumped over the moon.  
  
It makes sense to me.  
  
At accurately one minute and three seconds past midnight, I learned that 'tomorrow' was better defined as 'sometime during the daylight hours, preferably after school, so certain high-school CEO's (Kaiba) can be available to hear certain ghosts (me) scream and be downstairs in enough time to laugh at said ghost'.  
  
And no, this didn't come in the form of Kaiba yelling at me or yanking me around or anything. It came from my own personal experiences- and the fact that I seriously didn't want to be alone when I went down there.  
  
In other words, I chickened out.  
  
Yes, I have no pride. But it wasn't my fault- I kept seeing the soup can explode, and mentally replacing the can with my head.  
  
Despite this decision, I had to go downstairs and talk to the computer. Curiosity had gotten the better of me. Besides, the other ghost had run away from me. Well, we'd both gone our own ways, me screaming like a twelve-year-old girl, but I had actually come out of my hiding place.  
  
I floated through the floor, into the dark basement. Never before had the lack of lights bothered me- instinctively, I think I knew that nothing was hiding in the shadows. Now, the story hadn't changed. I spared the room a quick glance, but there was nothing. Not that I'd expected something, since I can't see in the dark.  
  
Excuse me, lady, I know you're a ghost, but could you wear this glow-in-the- dark target sign so I can see you in the basement? Thanks.  
  
Not gonna happen.  
  
I floated through the wall and glanced around. Nothing. The computer screen lit the room up rather well, so I was confident. Suddenly tired, I rubbed my eyes and sighed. This ghost was gonna kill me again, especially if I kept creeping around like a paranoid schitzo.  
  
"Hey, bright eyes. Something wrong?"  
  
I looked at the computer, who appeared to me looking at me with her eye- screens.  
  
"I dunno," I answered. I spared her a sideways glance. "Seen any other ghosts pass through here?"  
  
"Uhhh... no."  
  
Well, what had I expected? 'Yes, she was just here ten seconds ago, we were talking about the top ten ways to slice-n-dice a Shay'?  
  
"Get the good news about Kaiba?" I continued, trying not to seem like a total nut job.  
  
"Good news? You mean something happened?"  
  
"Shit." There we go again, the condemning little word popping out of my mouth before my brain could inform my tongue that the rest of me was leaving. And then, leaving was no longer an option.  
  
"What happened to Master Kaiba?!" The computer couldn't move, per say, but she gave off a good impression of getting bigger. "What did you do to him?"  
  
"He's alive," I hastened to explain. "Alive and in, well, one or two pieces. And I didn't do anything-" blatant lie, but what the hell- "he got into a car accident."  
  
Silence, in which I became aware of something behind me.  
  
I turned lightning fast, but may as well have saved my energy. This time, my friendly little comrade ghost wasn't running.  
  
For many years to come, I would congratulate myself on not screaming, yelling, shrieking, or even squeaking. I simply stood there, with my mouth open.  
  
The woman tossed her long black hair and sighed. Obviously she'd been through this routine before. Not that I'm a good judge or anything, but the faded midnight-blue kimono she wore looked older than me by several times.  
  
"Ha... wha... how... why... who... wha..." I began several questions, dropping each one after the first syllable.  
  
"You might want to sit down, Keiji, this could take a while," the computer spoke over my interrogation.  
  
"Keiji?!" I seized the interruption and spun to face the machine. "Keiji!! I thought you said you hadn't seen her, you lying little----"  
  
"You asked if I'd seen a ghost. The only ghost I see here is you."  
  
I turned and stared at Keiji, who returned my gaze with her ink-black eyes. After several seconds of unsuccessful communication- I opened my mouth but got no sound out- I shifted back to the computer.  
  
"Whaddya think she'z, chopped livah?!"  
  
"Huh?" Insert evil glare. If looks could kill, I would have burned a hole straight through the computer and the wall behind her. "You're talking funny. I can't understand you."  
  
That makes three people. I was beginning to get curious about this supposed accent of mine.  
  
"I am a spirit," came a calm voice from behind. All anger fled me as I glanced back at Keiji. She continued evenly. "Spirits and ghosts are one in the same."  
  
"Too proud to share a title with an idiot like me?" I challenged. She skewered me with a dry look, then turned away.  
  
"I am Keiji Miashin," she said finally.  
  
"Keiji," I echoed, then scowled as she shook her head. "What? Should I call you Miashin? No? How about freaky-ghost-excuse-me-SPIRIT-lady-who's- tryin-to-take-over-MY-basement?"  
  
"As soon as he calms down, he'll go back to being a coward," the computer hummed cheerfully. "He's just upset right now, and he tends to get stupid when he's upset. Even more stupid, I mean. Shay isn't exactly a genius."  
  
Maybe I got stupid when I got mad, but I also got bold. I had fresh memories of even Kaiba backing down when faced with my anger. This ghost had scared me once; I was not gonna let her do it again.  
  
However, ignoring me as she was, I couldn't rave at her without blowing something up. My anger slowly drained away, and I slumped, staring at the wall in between Miashin and the computer.  
  
"Done?" The machine asked. I groaned and dropped my head into my hands.  
  
"I gotta headache," I muttered. If anyone cared about me, this would be their cue to put their arm over my shoulders and offer me comfort. Ever since the stunt with the limo, especially since the limo driver's death, I'd been feeling depressed and miserable. Miashin sent me a mildly interested glance.  
  
"He has encountered death," she stated. Her tone resembled the tone one might use to comment on the weather.  
  
"Who died?" Bossy demanded. I shrugged and half-heartedly mumbled the correct answer. Miashin took a step closer. Either I was imagining things, or I saw a stray hint of pity in those endlessly deep eyes.  
  
"The effects will wear off, in a few days," she informed me. Then, as if afraid of getting too close, she backed off again.  
  
I stared at her. That was experience talking, I could tell. I was on the verge of asking how old she was before changing my mind. I still had to deal with the issue of another ghost- spirit, whatever she wanted to call herself- camping out in my basement.  
  
"Look," I said finally. "I'm headin' back upstairs. I need some serious rest, and I'm not gonna get it with the psycho bossy bitch hangin' around." I glanced at Miashin and added, "Or you."  
  
There was a definite smile there.  
  
Filing the events away for future reference, I headed back upstairs, nearly knocking myself out on a water pipe.  
  
I sat in the middle of the living room, trying to decide what to do, when my eyes fell on the phone. Over the past few hours, I'd been a real pain to be around. But now, I was getting tired of acting mature.  
  
The night nurse actually heard me ask for Kaiba and patched me through. From the sound of his voice, I had succeeded in my goal of waking him up.  
  
"Hey, Seto," I chirped, the cheerfulness coming to me surprisingly easy. "Guess what."  
  
"I am going to kill you. Painfully."  
  
"She is cute."  
  
And with that, I hung up and settled into the couch for a long period of obliviousness.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Flame: Not in a timely fashion, I know, but hey.  
  
Dancer: Almost one year on this fic. Any ideas as to what to do for our anniversary?  
  
Shay: Maybe we could host an anti-Shay-bashing day.  
  
Flame: Dream on. 


	49. A LongAwaited Return

I DIDN'T DIE!!!!!!!

It felt like it a few times, but fortunately, things are looking up. You see, my dad's death affected me far more than I thought. He was my… well, my straight shooter, I guess. He told me how it was and didn't take my crap. I definitely got my pigheaded, 'I'll argue because I can even if I'm wrong' attitude from him, and without him, mom didn't stand a chance. She's a strong, wonderful woman, and she's dealt with all of my crap, but she simply wasn't able to handle me the way Dad was.

I kinda went into a downward spiral after that, just doing what I wanted when I wanted. I pissed off by best friend because I was stupid enough to lie to her. I almost flunked out of high school and I was definitely not ready for college. No, I didn't do drugs or partying- not because I didn't have access, as I did go to 'Druggie High', but because I wasn't that far gone.

A few months ago, I was watching a movie and thinking about my life and how much it sucks. I began to have a panic attack, which is not pleasant. I couldn't breathe and I almost fainted. After that, I decided to pull myself back onto the right track, which includes my ultimate love- writing.

You all deserve to scream and rant, or not respond at all. I will take it all. I will update in a timely manner, unless other problems arise, in which case I will tell you. Shay is too rich, too deep, and too wonderfully developed to abandon.

Besides, torturing him makes me feel better.

Disclaimer: I only own Shay. ::pause:: Trade ya.

-----------

When you are incapable of feeling pain for a long period of time, even the tiniest pin prick comes across as a major wound. Which was why I yowled- there is, sadly, no better word for it- jumped about four feet into the air, and fell right back through the couch when I was poked. After my graceful landing, I initiated my ultimate defense pose- curled into a ball, arms over my head, and yelling.

"Whatever it is, I didn't do it and I don't want it!"

No response. I lifted my head and glanced around. The poker was nowhere to be seen. I groaned and crawled out of the pillows, pausing to collect an admiral number of coins. Even Seto Kaiba couldn't get all the junk out of his couch. It made me feel a little better, somehow.

In the three days immediately following the accident, I had been insulted, ignored, dismissed, jabbed, poked, prodded, and generally all-around annoyed by one Keiji Miashin. She was 'testing my limits', trying to see how far she could push me.

That was pretty far, considering I was terrified of pushing back. Her royal nastiness was several times my age, and if ghost/spirit things followed the same aging process as cheese, she could wipe the floor with my semi-visible ass.

And my friends, those treacherous backstabbers, had abandoned me. Ok, Mokuba I could understand, as his brother was coming home in a matter of hours. However, Battosei and Keiji had exchanged one look and gone for their respective weapons. Our lovely, freaky maid was now mopping the floors with one hand on the mop and the other waving her sword at everything that moves.

I can see where that will meet with disaster, particularly where she sends Kaiba right back to the hospital. I will make sure I am in a completely different part of the house, so I can't be blamed.

Yeah, we're sticking together real well, aren't we?

I looked around again, crouching in the couch like a soldier in a foxhole. Only, my enemy can come straight through wood and fabric.

For all the time I had been here, I had never really considered how annoying I was. I could pop up anywhere, anytime, like an ad screaming "CONGRATULATIONS YOU ARE THE MILLIONTH VISITOR TO THIS SITE CLICK HERE TO CLAIM YOUR PRIZE!!!!"

Only mine would say, "Congratulations, you are the millionth person annoyed by Shay-ghost, swing your sword/bat/random object now to claim temporary freedom from his presence!!!"

Now that the tables were turned, I wasn't liking it.

Maybe Kaiba was onto something by locking random spirits in the freezer, as long as random didn't mean me.

"You aren't bothered by me?" Came a familiar voice. I squawked, leapt up, then went back down and buried myself into my foxhole.

"No," I squeaked. Cleared my throat, dropped my voice an octave lower to where it belonged, and tried again. "No, you don't bother me. You just… surprise me." She was looking down on the couch. I scuttled sideways. "Constantly. Hourly. That's all. How long are you staying?" She moved after me, reaching into the pillows to find me. I flattened myself against the wall. "Not to seem a bad host or nothing, but I really do want you to leave."

"Anything." She stopped trying to reach me and stepped back, pointedly ignoring me as I ground my teeth. Keiji was worse than even Kaiba when it came to correcting my butchered language.

"Anyways, why are you bugging me?" I asked, feeling braver. "Why are you here? To piss me off? Well, grab some popcorn, 'cause when Kaiba gets home, the show will start."

I was testy, yes. The life force had worn off, and for several hours after I had floated horizontally next to the oven. I felt like I'd gone through a wood chipper. Battosei thought I'd died- again- and kindly brought me back by pouring cold water over me. The water she'd been mopping with.

Then there was Keiji, who was treating me like a pin cushion.

And finally, Kaiba. When he got home, things would go down in a big way. I was pulling for the 'the devil you know' thing as far as which ghost got the boot. However, that would be difficult, as this time he had managed to seriously piss me off. Keiji told me that I resented him for pulling me away from the one life force, then not giving me another.

I kinda thought it was because he called me insane after I pulled him out of a burning car.

"I am not bugging you," Keiji ever-so-kindly informed me. I snorted. "I am testing you. Every spirit needs to know their limits. You barely know what you are."

"I'm dead," I countered, sticking my head out. "Enough said."

"You are an active ghost in a corporeal location with minimal tangible effect counterbalanced by a massive ethereal power."

As was the appropriate response, I stared blankly at her. My face was one big question mark.

Keiji sighed, then waved a hand dismissively and walked away. I pulled myself out of the couch and started to follow her. I was going to translate that sentence, even if I needed a dictionary.

Scratch that. I definitely needed a dictionary, although it would be nice if she just explained it to me for once.

My plans were changed when I heard a car door slam. I dodged the window and drifted out. Kaiba was talking, mostly to himself, while Mokuba and the hired help wisely kept their mouths shut. I saw why soon.

"Why do I do this to myself?" He demanded. "Because it's a war. Because a ghost with no regard for personal space or respect has taken over my house. He's the only thing in there that doesn't listen to me, doesn't do what I say when I say so. It's a challenge, a test. And because…"

He stopped there and looked up. I retreated further into the house, but he wasn't looking at me. Instead, he studied the sky, finishing so softly I could barely hear him.

"Because he saved my life for no reason. I yell at him, I abuse him, I insult him, and he still risked fading out entirely to save me. He didn't even hesitate. I don't get him."

"You never will," Keiji interrupted. Kaiba turned his death glare on her, while I silently rooted for the Zen Mistress to dig herself a nice deep hole. The sooner she annoyed the boss man, the sooner she was gone. "He is the kind of person who gives without hesitation. You are not. Neither will ever fully understand each other."

I was touched. Honestly touched, by both of them. Of course, my mouth moved faster than my brain.

"I am? I mean, yeah, I'll do just about anything for my friends, but I am dead, after all, and….. shit."

They were both staring at me. Keiji looked amused, probably because I was a head and a pair of shoulders sticking out of the house at a forty-five degree angle.

Kaiba looked ready to kill me. I realized then that he knew I'd heard his little speech, when I clearly was supposed to continue thinking of him as an ungrateful jackass. I scrambled back into the house. Then I hesitated, unsure of which hiding place to retire to; Keiji had taken over the basement.

I met Kaiba halfway down the stairs. He was paler, slightly thinner- not that it was obvious, given that he was a stick on his normal days- and visibly tired. Still, he met me head-on.

"And I will win," he stated flatly. My mind was busy concocting images of me being sealed in a freezer while Keiji-Yoda took my role as household pest, so I didn't immediately understand. When I did get it, he was halfway down the hall.

"Bring it on," I called at him. He took one step towards me and, in my normal dignified manner, I yelped and ducked into the wall.

"No," he decided, in a tone that suggested I be suitably grateful for his generosity. "I try not to fight idiots. They lower me to their level, then win because they're better at being stupid." And then he was gone.

I had a vague feeling he was quoting a famous saying, but I wasn't about to ask and therefore prove his point.

"Bring it on," I repeated softly. If it was a fight he wanted, I could certainly deliver.

-------------

And next chapter, ladies and gents, the bugs make their requested return, and we get a glimpse of Shaylock Holmes, great detective! (?)


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